Where the Waters Join
by Scribbling Shroud
Summary: Her serene appearance does not tell all. A collection of oneshots featuring Unohana Retsu, gentle yet feared captain of the Fourth Division. Written for the 50scenes community on Livejournal.
1. The Natural

**Title:** The Natural

**Characters:** Unohana

**Prompt:** #049 -- Grace

**Word Count:** 908

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** Retsu takes up arms for the first time.

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

**_The Natural_**

She knelt at the sidelines, hands folded in her lap, the very picture of a proper young lady. Well, not quite; there was a most unladylike fascination in her eyes. Yet perhaps the fascination could have been overlooked if not for the fact that it was directed at the swordplay in front of her. Most improper, indeed.

Two bokutou sang through the air, clattered together with such force that the wood surely creaked. They moved in swift thrusts and wide, lingering arcs while their wielders lunged and pivoted in control and response. Retsu was glad, now – however awful the thought was – that her ikebana instructor had taken ill today. Never before had she been privileged enough to see one of her father and brother's sparring matches.

All too soon, it was over; her father struck a sharp blow to her brother's wrist, causing him to drop the weapon. And in the next second, her brother had a bokutou pressed against his unguarded throat.

Retsu could not hide her admiration, a smile curling up her usually firmly set lips. That had been simply magnificent. Her brother was lucky to be training in such a beautiful and thrilling skill. It would have been a joy to watch every lesson.

"Ah, Retsu-chan, I take it you've been enjoying your observation?" The amusement in her father's voice was clear, but without censure.

Retsu nodded, and toned down her smile. "Yes, Otousama. It was very lovely."

"You can say that because you weren't involved," her brother cut in, still rubbing at his wrist. "It's hardly as 'lovely' as it looks."

"Tch. You need to toughen up, Takahiro," her father all but spat. "Then perhaps you'll appreciate it again, the same as your sister." And then her father blinked as though something had just occurred to him, and turned back to her. "Retsu-chan. Would you like to try your hand at this?"

Retsu blinked in astonishment, only dimly registering Takahiro's protests. Her smile widened again as she hopped to her feet. In some clans, teaching a girl how to handle a weapon was commonplace; the Unohana clan was not one of them. How could she possibly pass up such an opportunity? It might never happen again.

She reached for the fallen bokutou without hesitation, and adjusted it in her hands. Was that how it was supposed to be held? Something didn't seem quite right. She frowned at the weapon, brow furrowed.

Behind her, Takahiro sighed. "If you're going to do something like this, you could at least hold the stick properly." He took hold of her hands, and adjusted them into a more suitable position. "Like this, silly. Now don't go blaming me if you get hurt."

Well, yes, that certainly did feel better in her hands. She smiled at Takahiro as he stepped back. "Thank you, onii-san." She then turned back to her father, a frown of concentration taking over her face.

"I've no intention of hurting your sister," her father replied. Even so, his eyes remained upon her, full of mirth as he took up a guard position. "Begin!"

She wasted no time, swinging the bokutou in a wide arc only to have it neatly deflected. Undeterred, she spun on one foot as she had learned in her dancing lessons and tried a strike at the other side. This too met with wood.

Retsu bit her lip in thought for a mere second before she decided on her next move. She snapped her weapon upward, scoring a hit on the soft flesh on the underside of her father's arm. He hissed in pain and stepped back. And though the smile was still present on his lips, something about it had changed.

Gone was the amusement; in its place was pride.

The match was a flurry of motion after that, Retsu more often than not on the defensive. She blocked, ducked, weaved with perfect smoothness, twirled around blows while bringing the bokutou to bear for her own. For her part, she did score a few more hits, though she never managed to gain an advantage. And she would not have expected to; her father was a practiced swordsman, and she'd had no education in this area.

Their bokutou clashed in front of them, and in short order Retsu found herself outmatched by her father's sheer strength. Her weapon flew from her hands, clattering to the floor a few feet away.

Despite the loss, Retsu smiled as she pushed a few errant strands of hair out of her face, panting from the effort of the match. That had been absolutely wonderful. So invigorating.

"My, my, Retsu-chan." Her father laughed lightly, walking over to her and placing an affectionate hand on her head. "One would never have expected you hadn't done this before, seeing that. You went and made your brother look bad."

Retsu giggled and turned her attention back to Takahiro. He knelt at the sidelines, eyes wide and mouth even wider. Apparently, he was too stunned to even speak up in his own defense. Had she really been that good?

"I think I may have to speak to your mother about adding kenjutsu lessons to your schedule." Her father's voice regained her attention. "It would be a shame to waste such potential."

Had she been less enthusiastic about the prospect, Retsu might have noticed the terrified expression that claimed Takahiro's face. But she was too excited for even a glance in his direction.


	2. Nothing So Beautiful

**Title:** Nothing So Beautiful

**Characters:** Unohana, Kenpachi, Yachiru

**Prompt:** #003 – Bleed

**Word Count: **954

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Kenpachi finally understands why his men are terrified of her – but what they find terrifying, he finds beautiful.

**Warnings:** general bloodiness abounds

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

Nothing So Beautiful

Blood sprayed out from the first cut, and the second cut cleaved through the mask, dispersing the hollow's body. Red liquid dripped from both his blade and his face where it had been splashed; the feeling was fantastic as usual.

"Yay, Ken-chan! And that was a strong one, too!" Yachiru's cheery voice was loud in his ear. She had yet to leave his shoulder since they'd entered Hueco Mundo and had gotten a face-full of the action as a result. And she enjoyed it as any proper Eleventh Division member should.

And that had been the last hollow in the vicinity. Unless he could find another concentration of them, the fun was over. Which would have been bad for several reasons, not the least of which was the fact that he wasn't even warmed up yet. He scanned the dunes for more prey.

"Over there, Ken-chan! Over there!" Yachiru pointed off to their left, her hand waving in excitement. "There's stuff over there!"

Kenpachi frowned; Yachiru's sense of direction was disgustingly unreliable. He cast her a wary glance. "You're sure it's that way? You're not just pointing randomly, this time?"

"Hmph! That's mean! I know what I'm doing!" Yachiru pouted, and folded her arms stubbornly. "Why won't you listen to me?"

Well, damn. She was getting huffy; he couldn't have that. "Fine, fine, we'll go that way," he muttered before taking off in a full run in the direction that Yachiru had indicated, the little girl cheering into his ear the whole way. All was right with the world again.

It was especially right when Yachiru's intuition proved correct for once; he could see the forms of various hollows towering over the horizon. He licked his lips in anticipation. Maybe these ones would be more worthy opponents than the ones he'd faced earlier. So far, the entire expedition here had failed to provide much in the way of worthwhile entertainment. But as he approached, an unusual sight gave him pause.

And that sight had clearly caught Yachiru's notice as well. "Look at that, Ken-chan! Braidy-chan is fighting!"

Kenpachi stopped a respectable distance from the action, compelled to watch this rare display. After all, he couldn't imagine it would last long, anyway; he would pick up the pieces once it was over.

He had never seen Unohana fight before, and figured she barely knew how. She captained a division of weaklings who probably hadn't lifted a sword since their Academy days. What did she know about combat? And yet nearly everyone in his division was scared to death of her. It was the stupidest thing he'd ever seen, watching seasoned warriors turning tail and running from a tiny, sweetly-smiling woman.

But Unohana's blade was dripping blood, he was surprised to note. And from what he could tell, she hadn't been hurt at all. One of the hollows took a swipe at her with fingers tipped with claws several feet long. She smoothly swept out her sword and sliced clean through the hollow's arm as though it had offered no resistance, its blood splattering all over her small frame. When the hollow collapsed in pain, roaring in fury, Unohana reversed her sword and performed a casual slice through the mask. A powerful foe downed in two effortless strokes.

She performed a shunpo as another hollow sought to crush her with a massive fist while she was distracted, appearing just over the creature's head. Another strike, another enemy defeated. It had taken all of three seconds.

Kenpachi couldn't help but smile as he watched the battle progress. Even though she was making use of that shunpo crap, Unohana never resorted to those weak-ass kidou spells like he thought she might. She destroyed her enemies with her sword alone, with a kind of ruthless efficiency that members of the Eleventh Division would envy.

In the end, he didn't have to pick up the pieces; there was nothing left of the hollows, and the Fourth Division captain had barely taken a wound. His grin widened when she turned, apparently just realizing that he was there.

She approached him at a leisurely pace, not even breathing hard from all the fighting she had done. Her braid was matted with blood, and the liquid had also soaked into her haori and stained her face; the only evidence of her own wounds was a slash through her hakama, revealing a shallow cut on her thigh. And yet she didn't bother to preen or cleanse herself of the results of her battle. Her usual smile was on her lips.

"That was so great, Braidy-chan!" Yachiru crowed. "Almost as good as Ken-chan!"

Unohana bowed her head demurely; an odd sight given her current appearance. "Thank you so much for the compliment, Kusajishi-fukutaichou. It is high praise, indeed." She shifted her gaze to Kenpachi and gave him a single nod of acknowledgement. "Zaraki-taichou. Pardon me, but I need to make my way back to Isane."

And she breezed by him without a further word, her steps as relaxed as though she were strolling through Seireitei and not crossing the deserts of Hueco Mundo. A trail of blood still dripped from her zanpakutou, a fitting complement to the stains on her haori.

Now it all made sense, Kenpachi reflected gleefully. This little encounter had proven that Unohana could kick ass with the best of them without batting an eye. He could sort of understand his men getting a little nervous about that, even though he still didn't approve of their reactions. But he could no longer deny that Unohana Retsu was a fine woman.

He glanced over his shoulder, catching her retreating frame by the bloodstains on her clothing, and he chuckled.

A damn fine woman.


	3. Silent Sympathy

**Title:** Silent Sympathy

**Characters:** Unohana, Minazuki

**Prompt:** #046 – Saliva

**Word Count:** 757

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** Her shikai did nothing but heal. It was a shame so many people seemed to fear it.

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

**_Silent Sympathy_**

The hollow hunt had been disastrous. Not that the Sixth Division detachment had failed to purify the creatures – nothing less than absolute success was excusable to Kuchiki-taichou – but several of them had been gravely wounded. Thus the reason that Retsu herself had been called here, rather than any of her subordinates.

She strode across the battlefield, Minazuki's released form following in her wake. He already held a few of the injured in his massive mouth, and they trailed behind one of the healthy detachment members in search of those remaining. Every now and then, their guide would cast an uneasy glance back in Minazuki's direction.

It was a common reaction to her shikai, and Retsu hated it.

But she smothered her disapproval as their guide called out to her and pointed a short distance ahead. Lying haphazardly across the ground were the remaining three wounded. One of them was moving slightly, the others as still as death. But they lived yet; she could tell. None here would die if she and Minazuki had a say in it.

As they reached the injured, Retsu put a hand on their guide's shoulder to indicate he could relax. He was as pale as her haori, the poor thing. Young, too. Probably hadn't been in the Gotei Thirteen for very long, hadn't ever seen comrades in such a state. He would see much more in the years to come, and hopefully after a while it would not disturb him quite so profoundly. Caring was essential, true. But they were a military; casualties would happen, and one needed to find a way to deal with that.

Minazuki hummed quietly at her side, taking in the fallen forms before him, and giving her a gentle nudge with one fin. He was asking for her permission. Retsu smiled and gave a single nod, almost giggling when he gurgled in happiness. Sometimes, her zanpakutou's spirit was just too cute.

Minazuki's tongue swept out, dripping saliva as he pulled one of the unconscious men into his mouth. And the same with the others, taking special care with the one that could still move. His mouth worked a bit to shuffle all of his charges into more comfortable positions.

Retsu turned back to their guide, whose pallid face had taken on a tinge of disgust. Once again, she was forced to rein in her displeasure – the young man wasn't actually trying to be offensive – and keep her expression neutral. "Return to the rest of your detachment and report to your captain. I will ensure the safety of your comrades from here on."

She didn't wait for acknowledgement before climbing onto Minazuki's back. As she settled into her accustomed pose, she gave him a soothing pat. "Back to the division, Minazuki."

Minazuki hummed his agreement and took to the skies, gently as always; he did not wish to cause any additional harm to those he carried by handling them roughly.

He wasn't a monster, in spite of what most people thought. Retsu could often forgive someone's reaction to seeing him for the first time; his appearance was rather strange. But when people continued to react in such a manner . . . Well, that was just willful blindness, and she couldn't help the minor stab of irritation. Minazuki was a healer; the special enzymes in his saliva rapidly accelerated the recovery process. And yet he somehow brought little but fear to those around him.

Minazuki landed in the main courtyard of the Fourth Division, where a number of subordinates were waiting anxiously. Without a word, Retsu slid off his back; a silent signal for him to release those in his care. And he did so, as carefully as he could.

Retsu gave care instructions to her people, who responded with the efficiency she had come to expect from them. But something in the way they carried the bodies struck her. She blinked, then frowned the slightest bit. Her people would periodically take one hand off their charge in order to wipe away the saliva onto their shihakushou. Such was hardly necessary or appropriate; they'd had their hands steeped in fluids far less pleasant and had not been compelled to immediately wash them away.

A glance at Minazuki revealed that his one eye was downcast, his fins drooped. He had seen the reaction as well. Retsu placed a comforting hand on him and smiled. In response, his massive tongue flicked out, giving her a full lick on her face and coating it with saliva.

She didn't wipe it away.


	4. A Friendly Insinuation

**Title:** A Friendly Insinuation

**Characters:** Unohana, Shunsui, Ukitake

**Prompt:** #014 – Sober

**Word Count:** 978

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** What's a little half-drunken banter between friends?

**Warnings:** Alcohol consumption, a bit of sexual innuendo

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

_**A Friendly Insinuation**_

For once, the bustle was not about preserving life, but celebrating it. Retsu wasn't much of a partier, but Shunsui had managed to convince her to attend this one. She couldn't argue that the situation didn't warrant a party. The Gotei Thirteen had just been officially instituted, and she, Shunsui, and Juushirou had been formally invested into the rank of Captain. Sharing that event with others was fun.

Getting roaring drunk was not. But then, she wasn't Shunsui.

She stood back from everyone, taking a break from mingling, and took a sip from her half-full cup of sake. It wasn't her first cup, but she knew how to pace herself so that she didn't get inebriated. Others probably knew as well, but didn't consider that to be important knowledge. One example of this point twirled himself magnificently into a chair beside her, all bright colours and merriment, and remarkably still upright. His cheeks were flushed, but he still managed to give her a proper smile.

"Ah, Retsu-chan, what are you doing all the way back here?" Shunsui drawled, his voice barely affected by the amount of alcohol he'd surely consumed. "The crowds could do to have someone of your boundless loveliness among them."

Retsu's lips twitched upward. Most would have dismissed the words as drunk-talk, but with Shunsui is was difficult to tell. "I'm afraid the crowds will have to do without me for the time being, Shunsui-kun. I needed some respite. But don't feel you have to stay back on my account. Go on and have fun."

Shunsui sighed dramatically. "Now, that wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me, would it? Leaving a lady all alone. Shameful! And besides . . ." He paused here, his eyes taking on a mischievous glint. ". . . what could possibly be more fun than spending time with a woman who possesses the kindness of an angel and the beauty of a goddess?"

Retsu couldn't help rolling her eyes at this. Laying it on a little thick, wasn't he? Perhaps he was a bit more drunk than he was letting on. She took another sip before replying. "I see you've been very deep into the sake tonight. My congratulations on managing to stay as coherent as you are."

Shunsui pursed his lips in a mock-pout, placed a hand over his heart, and bent over in his chair. "Retsu-chan! So cold! So very, very cruel to so grievously wound a man's heart! The pain is unbearable!"

A mild chuckle escaped Retsu's lips at her friend's theatrics. If there was one thing to be said in Shunsui's favour, it was that encounters with him were anything but boring.

"Shunsui!" The voice carried over the din, but just barely. A head of white hair made it through the celebratory masses, and a moment later, Juushirou came into view. He took notice of her and stopped abruptly, blinking before he inclined his head. "Retsu-san. It's good to see you in such good spirits." He shifted his gaze back to his friend. "And I suppose I should count you lucky to be in the presence of the one woman who won't smack you for your conduct."

"Violence would be absolutely uncalled for. I am, after all, a gentleman." Shunsui shot Juushirou a knowing glance. "And what's with the formality? 'Retsu-san' indeed. Is that any way to speak to your lady love?"

Retsu hid her smile behind her sake cup, watching Juushirou's face take on a pink hue that had nothing to do with alcohol. She hated to admit it, but it was amusing to see the man flustered. Really, she should be ashamed.

Juushirou managed to compose himself impressively quickly, and cleared his throat. "I've told you to stop that, Shunsui. I don't harbour feelings of that nature for her."

After almost laughing at him, Retsu felt compelled to come to Juushirou's defense; it was the least she could do. "I would advise you not to pay any attention to him, Juushirou-kun. As you can probably tell, he's had quite a lot to drink, and it makes him imagine things. Perhaps we should drop him off at his quarters so he can rest." She took another drink.

"Trying to get me out of the way? I'm hurt," Shunsui piped up, not sounding the least bit dejected. "Well, far be it for me to interfere with two young lovers. Just make sure to be gentle with him, Retsu-chan; you know his cough worsens when he exerts himself physically."

Retsu nearly choked on her sake; she patted her chest to encourage the liquid down, painfully aware that colour had risen to her cheeks. Normally, Shunsui didn't get to her, but that insinuation just . . . The man really had no shame.

Perhaps she should consider that smacking option.

But Shunsui rose from his chair before she could give it much thought. "I'll allow you two to continue on with any further plans you have for this evening. The crowd calls me forward; farewell, my friends." And with the same flourish as when he arrived, Shunsui was gone.

Surreptitiously, Retsu glanced at Juushirou out of the corner of her eye; his face had gone from pale pink to flaming red. Better not to let him know she had noticed. His dignity had been trampled on enough tonight.

"Well," he said at length, "as you said, he's quite drunk. He's going to say strange things when he doesn't have his wits about him as we do."

The question of Shunsui's sobriety wasn't quite settled in Retsu's mind. She knew that she was unaffected, and Juushirou wasn't a heavy drinker himself, so his head was clear. Yes, the two of them she was certain about. But Shunsui was open for debate.

Nevertheless, she turned to Juushirou and gave him a firm nod. "Yes. The drunk do indeed say strange things."


	5. InterDivision Relations

**Title:** Inter-Division Relations

**Characters:** Unohana, Kenpachi, Hitsugaya, Ukitake, the rest of the captains

**Prompt:** #042 – Trickster

**Word Count:** 958

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** A sugar-inspired Yachiru lays waste to the 11th Division, and Kenpachi is determined to dismember whoever gave her candy – as soon as he figures out who it was.

**Warnings:** Kenpachi's foul mouth

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

**_Inter-Division Relations_**

Retsu stretched casually as she entered the First Division's meeting hall, thoroughly enjoying the sensation of her joints cracking and popping. Her steps were light, her face fresh; last night she had gotten the best sleep that she had managed to have in months. A lull in the hospital had allowed her to go off duty at an earlier hour.

The meeting wasn't for another fifteen minutes, so the atmosphere was a bit more relaxed than normal. Yamamoto-soutaichou had yet to arrive, and several of the captains were still missing – Shunsui, Kurotsuchi, and Zaraki were unlikely to make it before exactly the appointed moment. But at least Ukitake was feeling well enough to attend.

"You seem to be in especially good spirits this morning, Unohana-taichou."

Retsu was good at keeping too much emotion from her features, but she was not surprised by Aizen's observation; he noticed everything. She inclined her head respectfully. "A good rest always lifts one's mood, Aizen-taichou. I've not slept so well in quite some time." And the conversation might have continued if not for the bellowing that suddenly echoed though the hallway.

"Are you in there, you sick bastard?"

With that as his impressive introduction, Zaraki Kenpachi thundered into the meeting hall, early for perhaps the first time in his tenure. He had never looked particularly well-kept, but right now he looked positively haggard, eyes crazily scanning the room in search of only he knew what. But then Retsu saw his eyes light onto Ukitake and stop.

Zaraki stormed across the room and thrust an accusing finger in Ukitake's direction. "You! You did that on purpose, I know it! Can't challenge me properly, so you pull some sneaky trick like this?"

Ukitake tensed, his lips set into a firm line. "Calm down, Zaraki-taichou. I don't know what it is you think I did, but I've had no part in anything that would have caused you this kind of rage."

"You know damn well what I'm talking about, candyman! Yachiru went on a sugar-fuelled rampage and tore apart my division compound. Now my men have gotta waste time repairing it instead of going out and kickin' ass! And you're the only one that goes around shoving candy at people."

Retsu couldn't help it; she felt her lips quirk. If there was one thing that the Eleventh Division couldn't handle, it was their vice-captain loaded up on sugar. And destroyed buildings led to delayed combat assignments, which led to fewer injuries, which led to general discontent among the ranks, especially the captain.

"We have a long standing agreement that I don't give candy to your vice-captain," Ukitake said evenly. "I've abided by that – and I by no means 'shove' candy at anyone. I simply offer it."

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes at this statement. "Which is why, despite my continued protests, my division storage is loaded with a mind-boggling array of confectionary items."

Abruptly, Zaraki rounded on the boy. "Oh, so it was you then, runt! Pawning off your stash to destroy my division, huh? Why don't ya try actin' like a grown-up and face me man-to-man instead of bein' such an underhanded little shit?"

Hitsugaya's eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head back to glare at Zaraki. (Idly, Retsu wondered how long the young captain would be able to manage that feat before he got a crick in his neck.) He spoke softly, but coldly. "I have no desire to associate with your vice-captain any more than strictly necessary. Giving her sweets would only encourage interaction. And inter-division politics are hardly a great concern of mine. So go and lay the blame on a sensible target, Zaraki."

Had there been lower-ranked shinigami present, the room would have fallen into stunned silence; one did not speak with such disrespect to Zaraki and come out of it in one piece. But as the only ones present were captains, the exact opposite happened.

The room erupted into chaos.

Zaraki roared fiercely and made a lunge for Hitsugaya, who executed a shunpo to escape his range. Komamura latched onto Zaraki in an effort to hold him back, grunting with the effort. Soi Fon's temper burst forth; she began shouting something about everyone involved being a disgrace to captaincy. Tousen didn't make a sound, but his lips were tight with disapproval. Kuchiki's features were as impassive as always, both Ukitake and Aizen observed with wide eyes, and Ichimaru took in the whole scene with his usual face-splitting grin.

Well, this had been an unintended side-effect, Retsu had to admit. When she'd anonymously sent the crates of candy to the Eleventh Division, her only thought was to lighten her load for a few days; that division counted for the majority of her division's patients. Perhaps it hadn't been a wise move on her part.

"What is the meaning of this?"

There was an innate authority to Yamamoto-soutaichou's voice, and it immediately brought the tumult to a halt. Nobody spoke up, not wanting to end up reprimanded over what was essentially a frivolous issue. Instead, everyone took up their customary positions, including the remaining two captains who trailed in at last.

Yamamoto-soutaichou took his seat, but he was not yet finished. "I expect an answer as to why elite shinigami are behaving like crazed children."

Retsu opened her mouth to answer, since the words would best be received from someone who was level-headed. But Aizen beat her to it, smoothly explaining everything away and offering her an amused smile afterward as though he knew she had been the perpetrator.

Well, she had often said that he was an observant man. She briefly returned the smile, then turned her attention over to the meeting. It was still the best sleep she'd had in months.


	6. The Price of Chivalry

**Title:** The Price of Chivalry

Characters: Unohana, Ukitake

**Prompt:** #027 – Seduction

**Word Count:** 988

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** It was just a medical exam, right? Surely it would have been indecent to suspect it was anything else.

**Warnings:** Ukitake's mind is in the gutter.

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

**_The Price of Chivalry_**

He was being ridiculous. His mind was playing an exceedingly cruel trick on him. That had to be it, because there was no way that his current thoughts could possibly be accurate.

Juushirou fought off a blush as Retsu lifted one of his eyelids and leaned in closely to examine his pupil. Very closely. Enough so that he could feel her warm breath on his cheek and that he began to wonder what would happen if he were to guide her lips down to his own. It wouldn't take much to bring them into that position, either. When he thought about it, it would be rather easy . . .

He was not thinking about it. He certainly had no right to do so. After all, this was just his regular quarterly check-up, not a tryst. Retsu was just doing her job, and there was nothing more to her actions than that. How could he be so vile as to think otherwise?

Once she had repeated the process with his other eye, Retsu slid her hand down his cheek, fingertips ghosting across his skin. Juushirou couldn't help but swallow thickly as she halted for a moment against his pulse – which was throbbing entirely too fast, now that he noticed it – and continued down to his bare chest.

She laid her hand flat against him and looked up from under her lashes with her deep blue eyes. "Take a deep breath; I need to test your lung capacity."

Her voice sounded the same as ever. Really, it did. Juushirou was perfectly aware that the slight hint of breathiness was a product of wishful imaginings. Why would her voice be different? Retsu was a professional woman; there was no way that she would try anything while she was on duty.

Not that she would ever try anything on him, anyway, no matter how much he might have wished otherwise. Which he didn't. Really. No matter what Shunsui said.

He watched her carefully as he followed her instructions, noting the intense expression taking over her pretty face. Now that might have stolen his breath all on its own. Though the best method of halting his breathing would have been for Retsu to press herself against him, and seal his lips with hers while he tangled his fingers into her hair. Would have been quite the enjoyable way to test his lung capacity, to see just how long he could last without air.

Suddenly realizing where his thoughts were taking him, Juushirou nearly choked as he expelled the air from his lungs. What in the world was wrong with him today? Hopefully, Retsu would ascribe his flushed state to the momentary lack of oxygen; she would have been disgusted were she to discern its true meaning.

To his relief, she didn't even make a reference to his sudden colour. But that relief was only temporary as her other hand landed on his stomach, pressing down lightly over his ribs. She had to have both hands on him, now? This was getting to be too much to take; Juushirou's only hope was that the exam was nearly finished.

"Have you had any spells lately that have resulted in coughing up blood?" she asked, tilting her head as if curious; he couldn't help but find it cute. "Any with enough force to cause damage to your ribs?"

"No. The attacks have been relatively minor as of late." He managed to get the words out without sounding strained or out of breath. How, he didn't know, but he wasn't complaining. And his only concern about blood at the moment was how it was rushing down to a particular piece of his anatomy that he wished was being better behaved.

He thanked whatever higher power existed that Retsu had no reason to examine below his waist. The humiliation would have been too much.

Retsu smiled and nodded, mercifully removing her hands and stepping back. "That is always good to hear. And everything today feels very good."

Freedom was within his grasp. Needing to be out of here as soon as possible, Juushirou reached for his shihakushou and haori, but he halted suddenly. _Everything today feels very good . . ._ Those words conjured up the memory of her fingers sliding across his skin, almost as if she were enjoying the sensation.

Juushirou shook himself mentally as he donned his clothing. Good heavens, he was getting as bad as Shunsui. She had given him as clean a bill of health as he could get. That was all.

He bowed politely. "My thanks for your time, Unohana-taichou." Using her title at a time like this was the best thing; it would help to distance the unclean thoughts from his mind.

"No thanks are necessary, Juushirou-kun. And there's no need to be so formal when we're alone." Her expression faded into its usual serenity, though something in her eyes looked almost mischievous. "But if you have any problems, don't hesitate to call on me. Even after hours. You're welcome to come to my private quarters if you need me."

Juushirou barely suppressed a coughing fit at that. Was she implying that she wanted him to . . . That they should . . . No. No, she was just being conscientious, was all. And it was hardly an indecent thing for old friends to visit each other's private quarters. He was being paranoid again.

"Ah, thank you, but . . ." he fumbled for a graceful excuse. "I wouldn't want to bother you during your personal time. And my apologies, but I should be getting back to my compound. Kiyone and Sentarou tend to need supervision. Good day."

Juushirou beat a hasty retreat after that, not even glancing at Retsu's face. Had he done so, he would have noticed the shocked expression that faded into a sad sigh. As it was, he had no idea what he'd just missed.


	7. Lost in Undertones

**Title:** Lost in Undertones

**Characters:** Unohana, Aizen

**Prompt:** #029 – Vital Signs

**Word Count:** 830

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** A friendly game of Go between two people of great intellect. Or perhaps it isn't quite so friendly as it seems.

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

_**Lost in Undertones**_

The game entered its third hour as the bright rays of sunset bled through the screen. Carefully, Retsu studied the goban, stone poised in her fingers as she contemplated her next move. It wasn't so much that she was lacking for options, but that she had far too many of them, with the way the field was scattered. A trick perhaps, to overload her with possibilities and lead her to make a foolish choice? It was something she would not put past her opponent.

At last, she made her decision, and played the black stone. It would not aid a capture, but it would help to prevent one from the other side. "I believe it is now your move, Aizen-taichou."

This could have been called a tradition, were the term to be used loosely. Every now and then, she and Aizen would sit down for a friendly game of Go, all the while discussing literature and philosophy. With all due respect to the others around her, Aizen was one of the few she would truly acknowledge as an intellectual equal; it was a treat to be able to have such conversations.

When her turn came up again, Retsu smiled softly. So that was his game, was it? A clever move, to be sure. She expected no less. "I believe I've worked out your strategy; don't think that I will take it lightly."

She made her play, capturing three of his stones in the process.

Aizen smiled self-consciously. "My, my, am I that easy to read? Perhaps I should consider my movements more carefully. But I suppose that I should suspect you to discern such things as a matter of course. My apologies for underestimating you."

The vague flattery was amusing, she had to admit. She explained herself as he made his next move. "A divide and conquer strategy. Create as many options as possible, then force the opponent to choose between defense and offense, thus sacrificing the other."

And she realized that playing all-out defense, as she had for the past few turns, was not going to earn her victory. Defending was her nature in life, and it carried over into the game. The time was right to attack; her next move captured her another pair of white stones.

"Yes, well, dividing the enemy is rather a basic tactic, is it not?"

Retsu lifted an eyebrow at his phrasing. "Such strong words, Aizen-taichou. 'Enemy', is it? I had no idea you took games so seriously."

"Ah," Aizen ran a nervous hand through his hair once he'd taken his turn. His smile became even more bashful. "That sounded horrendously competitive of me, didn't it? Clearly, I misspoke; thoughts of work are no doubt cruelly intruding upon my leisure time. We are opponents in this game, but certainly not enemies."

She couldn't bring herself to smile at his actions. Something about the casual manner in which he'd referred to her as an enemy would not let go of her mind. Mentally, she shook herself. This was no time to be forming groundless assumptions – if ever there was a time for such a thing. He had misspoken and then corrected himself; there was no need to go deeper than that.

Her own assurances did little to help her sudden unease. But she kept those thoughts to herself. "No. We are certainly not."

The game continued from there, for nearly another hour until the room was dim. With every move, Retsu felt an odd sensation that more than a simple game of Go was at stake. There was nothing specific at all about this sensation, and that disturbed her all the more; she liked being able to pinpoint a problem.

Eventually, they both passed on their turns and the game was officially over. Since they had played in the Fifth Division this time, their unspoken agreement left it to Aizen to tally the score. His smile broadened when he finished.

"It would appear that I have been vanquished." He pushed his glasses higher up on his nose. "By a narrow margin, though it may be. Perhaps next time I will be able to devise an escape plan for when you come after me."

"Perhaps you will." Her voice was flat, devoid of the calm that usually flowed through it. She hoped that Aizen had not noticed this, but she was not foolish enough to think that her hope was validated.

She helped him clean up the game, engaging in their normal pleasant conversation as she did so. But under the surface, she could not help but think that she was missing something vitally important.


	8. Discriminating Tastes

**Title:** Discriminating Tastes

**Characters:** Unohana, Hanatarou

**Prompt:** #016 – Salt

**Word Count:** 991

**Rating:** K

**Summary:** The Fourth Division at large bemoans Hanatarou's lack of culinary skills. Retsu is not amused.

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

**_Discriminating Tastes_**

The Fourth Division dining hall was generally a cheerful place and this fact was not refuted today. Though the number of occupants was small, it had been planned this way; various people tended to the final details of their dishes before the appointed hour struck.

Retsu, of course, was already fully prepared, disliking as she did the thought of leaving things to the last minute. And she considered her division's semi-annual seated officer's potluck to be an important enough matter to ensure readiness. She watched the bustle with a smile, seeing that a few officers decided to stay away from the frenzy, most notably Hanatarou. He was eyeing the crowd nervously, as if afraid of getting trampled.

Not that it would have been the first time such a thing had happened. Long ago, Retsu had gotten the impression that the poor young man was accustomed to shabby treatment. Terrible thing, really.

And she noticed it again when everyone had taken a share of the food and made their way to the table. Hanatarou was bumped and jostled as though no one even noticed his existence. Miraculously, he managed not to spill his plate or his bowl of soup, setting them carefully onto the table with a sigh of relief.

Retsu sat in the midst of her officers. As this was not a business function, she saw no need for anyone to sit at the head of the table; authority was irrelevant here. These were merely times to bond as a group, to commiserate with those like-minded rather than to suffer the verbal abuse the other divisions tended to inflict upon them. Evenings like this were necessary in order to keep them all sane.

The atmosphere was pleasant as usual, and Retsu was currently enjoying a conversation with her new thirteenth seat – a sweet young lady who seemed rather flustered to be speaking equally to her captain. But the pleasantness did not last.

Further down the table, someone spit out a mouthful of soup, and for some reason was wiping his tongue with his fingers. Once finished, he sputtered, "Who in the world was it that made this stuff? I swear, my tongue is going to dry out."

Taking it as a cue, several of the other officers took sips of their own soup to see just what the problem was. Retsu had to admit curiosity herself and brought a spoonful to her lips. She swished the liquid around in her mouth for a few seconds, analyzing the flavour, before swallowing. A quick glance around the table showed that the general reaction to the dish was decidedly unfavourable.

Retsu couldn't fathom why; she found it rather delightful.

"Um . . ." Hanatarou spoke up timidly at the accusation, head bowed, eyes peeking upward like those of a scolded puppy. "I'm sorry. I was moving an open canister of salt across the kitchen, and I slipped in a puddle of something on the floor . . . And, well, it fell into the pot of soup. There wasn't time to make another batch, and I didn't want to show up without having brought anything . . ."

"It would have been better to have shown up with nothing rather than inflict this upon us!"

"What kind of idiot carries an open canister of anything across the kitchen?"

"Everyone, calm down! This was clearly an accident and hardly something to get so upset over!"

"Could you possibly have been more clumsy? How did you manage to rank seventh seat if you can't cross a room successfully?"

Retsu watched as poor Hanatarou shrunk from every insult hurled his way. Most of the officers had turned on him, save for Isane; bless her heart, that woman was trying her best to keep the peace. Unfortunately, it wasn't working. Measures needed to be taken.

"That," Retsu said quietly amidst the shouting, "will be quite enough, I should think."

Instantly, the room fell into silence. Everyone sat back, unmistakable apprehension in their eyes. Those who had been most vocal were noticeably quivering, sweat beading on their foreheads.

"While I admire that you can all come together for a common purpose, I can think of few worse purposes than to deride one of our own." She scanned the expressions of her officers; most looked contrite, Isane looked relieved, and Hanatarou looked shocked. "We have a lovely meal before us, so we should set ourselves to enjoy it, no matter any perceived imperfections. It is the sense of camaraderie and not the quality of the fare that is of importance here. You do realize that, I trust?"

Vigorous nods came from all directions, and the hostile air in the room calmed into something more agreeable. A couple of people even took the time to apologize to Hanatarou, who bowed his head awkwardly in acceptance. Much better.

During the clean-up after dinner, Retsu looked over to see Hanatarou standing near her, looking as nervous as ever. He clearly wished to speak with her, but was unable to find the courage to begin the conversation. So she prompted him. "What would you like to say, Hanatarou?"

"Ah!" He bowed deeply at the waist, nearly pitching forward from the speed at which he performed this action. "I just wanted to say thank you, Captain. For defending me, that is. You didn't have to do that."

Retsu smiled. "Nonsense. A member of my division was in need; I couldn't very well leave you to suffer. Besides . . ." She watched as Hanatarou straightened in preparation for her words. "I personally thought the soup was delicious."

"You did?" Hanatarou blinked in disbelief.

"Quite. I like to have something with a powerful flavour. The canister of salt certainly accomplished that feat."

She left the conversation at that. And for the next week, Retsu noticed that no matter how many times Hanatarou was shoved, trampled, or insulted, he always had a huge smile on his face.


	9. Appropriate Dosage

**Title:** Appropriate Dosage

**Characters:** Unohana, Soi Fon

**Prompt:** #035 – Lithium

**Word Count:** 1,017

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** Retsu attempts to convince Soi Fon that staying on her medication is a good idea.

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings are the property of Kubo Tite.

**_Appropriate Dosage_**

"I fail to see why this appointment was necessary."

Soi Fon almost succeeded in making the words emotionless, but Retsu could easily detect the irritation within them. Still, she decided not to make an issue out of it, and continued her kidou probing on the bones of the Second Division captain's right arm. A few days ago, Soi Fon had returned from a mission with several fractures. Retsu had taken care of the worst of the problem then, but the injury still needed to be monitored.

She paused over one of the cracks, sensing that it was healing a bit awkwardly, and chanted a quick spell to correct the misalignment. "It is all in the name of efficiency. You of all people know not to tolerate sub par work."

Soi Fon's expression darkened. "What would be more efficient is to get the job done right the first time. This is a waste of resources. My arm was healing just fine on its own."

"Medicine is, at times, a less than exact science," Retsu said calmly. Though it tweaked her pride the slightest bit to have her abilities called into question, she would not sink so low as to insult a patient. "Sometimes things need to be done in stages." She muttered another healing kidou as her fingers trailed down to Soi Fon's wrist.

The only response from Soi Fon was an annoyed huff. In instances such as this, Retsu rather longed for the old Soi Fon, the quiet and shy girl who wasn't so quick to snap at others. She had certainly been much easier to deal with back then. Which raised another point.

"May I ask how you have been doing on your medication?" Retsu asked. "You've been taking it regularly? Has it had an effect on your mood?"

At this, Soi Fon jerked her arm away to join the other one in a defensive fold across her chest. Her eyes narrowed to near slits, almost as deadly as her released zanpakutou. "I have. And it has caused me nothing but grief. My division is in chaos, subordinates doing whatever they please." Her body was shaking with barely contained rage. Most would have backed away in fear at this display, but Retsu held her ground. And after a moment, Soi Fon regained a measure of composure. "The medication is having an adverse effect on my ability to command my division. I request that you give me permission to discontinue its use immediately."

Smiling at a time like this would have been entirely inappropriate. Retsu's research had shown that the mineral lithium was able to stabilize a person's mood, to bring it away from extremes. Knowing her fellow captain's tendency to fly into a rage well out of proportion to the situation, she had prescribed the substance in an effort to calm her. And evidently, it was working, much to Soi Fon's apparent annoyance.

Retsu clasped her hands in front of her, maintaining an unobtrusive pose, and nodded in understanding. "I think it may be premature to discontinue your medication when it is performing its work. Perhaps you could go into more detail on how difficult your command has gotten?" If things were truly spiraling out of control, then she would consider at least adjusting the dosage.

"Very well." Soi Fon glanced down at her arms. Evidently realizing how childish the gesture was making her look, she dropped them to her sides. "My men no longer go rigid in anxiety when I perform evaluations. I've for some reason cut training sessions shorter by five minutes. And I'm even letting Omaeda consume vast quantities of snack foods in the office. During work hours! I'm amazed the whole division hasn't collapsed upon itself."

As the tirade had progressed, Retsu had blinked in disbelief, then carefully bitten the inside of her lip to keep from laughing. This was all? Subordinates that didn't fear for their very lives when she was present. Slightly shorter training sessions – and she hadn't mentioned that they were any less grueling than they had been before – when hers were known to be longer and more taxing than those of any other division. And while eating in the office wasn't always appropriate, it was hardly a sign of impending doom.

"Soi Fon-taichou," she began once she had gotten control of her impulse to laugh. "I hear your concerns, but I am afraid I do not consider these circumstances dire enough to warrant taking you off your medication."

"But my division –"

"Will easily survive. Your experiencing a more even temperament will not cause your division to fall into incompetence. I want you to continue to take your medicine as I have prescribed."

Retsu narrowed her eyes slightly as Soi Fon attempted to stare her down. This challenge was somewhat of a surprise, since the Second Division captain was usually dead-set on following orders without question. Then again, Retsu technically wasn't her superior.

After several moments, Soi Fon growled. "Fine. I will continue with the regimen until you see fit to change it."

Before Retsu could give her acknowledgement, a man she recognized as the Second Division's fourth seat burst into the room. The man offered a hasty bow, seeing as he was in the presence of two captains, before delivering his report.

"Captain, you are urgently needed back at headquarters. My apologies for interrupting your treatment, but I thought it best that I – augh!"

This last was brought on by Soi Fon roughly shoving him to the floor and deliberately stomping on his chest on her way out. Retsu winced, then bent to help the man up. That was certainly an overreaction. "She really doesn't seem to be doing as well as it sounded. Perhaps I should have increased the dosage on her medication."

The man blinked at her. "Are you kidding? This is by far the calmest I've ever seen Captain. Usually when she shoves me down, she stomps on my crotch!"

And then he was off, seeming almost gleeful. Retsu could only shake her head in amazement at the insanity running rampant in other divisions.


	10. Not So Secret

**Title:** Not So Secret

**Characters:** Unohana, Iemura

**Prompt:** #025 – Unaffected

**Word Count:** 728

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** Iemura still can't keep his thoughts to himself.

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

**_Not So Secret_**

" . . . and it is fortunate that it is I that has been assigned to handle the front desk. For surely the Fourth Division would be in chaos otherwise. While no doubt those Eleventh Division fools who are brought in here every day would benefit from my superlative healing skills, there are none here more organized than I. Furthermore . . ."

When Retsu entered the room, she tuned out Iemura's self-congratulatory speech as a matter of course. After a while, the action had become second nature. Even most of the patients here had become accustomed to the usual noise; few of them paid the words any mind. Silently, she set to work. No one still out here was in serious condition; those cases would have already been admitted to the hospital proper. Some minor kidou treatment was all that these people needed.

" . . . help but smile as Unohana-taichou graces the room with her presence. She is truly a wise woman, to assign me to this task; she must surely recognize my unique suitability for such a role. And this wisdom is but one of her appealing qualities. She possesses kindness, power, grace, but above all a charming beauty that never fails to . . ."

She knelt down in front of an older woman, placing her hand on the leg wound and whispering a spell to close it. Her patient for all intents and purposes had zoned out to Iemura's words, lulled perhaps into some form of meditation. No point in disturbing her; the speech would be over soon enough. Retsu moved on to the next person.

"I find myself wondering what her hair must look like when not confined to the braid that I have seen lo these many years. Perhaps she considers it too distracting a sight for those around her, for surely they could not help but pause and admire such perfection in place of doing their work. Not that I would be so easily swayed to thoughts of combing my fingers through the doubtlessly silky strands . . ."

Retsu tended to a minor gash on a young man's forehead. Hardly more than a boy, he was clearly not a regular here; his cheeks tinted red at the continued flow of words, and his eyes darted about nervously. He hadn't yet learned the proper ignorance. She gave him a reassuring smile, then delicately waved him away once she was finished with her work. The young man's features flooded with an overwhelming mixture of relief and gratitude as he shuffled as quickly and quietly as possible out of the room.

". . . cannot fathom why she would select Kotetsu as her vice captain instead of me. My healing abilities are every bit as powerful as hers, and Unohana-taichou would do better with someone of my confidence by her side rather than someone who tries to melt into the background. Not to once again mention my superior organization . . ."

Retsu looked up from where she was treating the hands of someone she recognized as being from the Thirteenth Division. The man's eyes were annoyed, and he made a move to speak out, no doubt feeling the need to avenge the minor slight against his third seat's sister, but she placed a finger over his lips. She met his eyes, silently assuring him that she would deal with the matter later.

". . . avoid me. Perhaps Unohana-taichou finds herself intimidated by my masculinity. Or she knows that it would be too distracting for her to work with me constantly present. It surely must be something of that nature. Why else would she consistently assign me to positions that limit our interactions? I believe I may have hit upon a valuable truth this day, and . . ."

After a moment, the man sighed, shoulders relaxing, and he rolled his eyes at Iemura's outrageous speculations. Retsu finished her spell, and sent him on his way. A quick glance about the room told her that the remaining injuries were quite minor and that she had best be getting back into the hospital to care for the more critical patients.

And so she exited the room as swiftly as she had come, but she still tossed a few words over her shoulder. "Iemura-san, you are speaking out loud again."

"Gah!"


	11. Proof of Ability

**Title:** Proof of Ability

**Characters:** Unohana

**Prompt:** #013 – White

**Word Count:** 1,053

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** She had disdained the haori for so long; it felt strange to wear it now.

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

_**Proof of Ability**_

The extra weight on her shoulders was uncomfortable, though physically insignificant. Mostly, it was the unfamiliarity of it all that bothered her; in the two centuries since Retsu had been named a captain, she had only worn the haori to official meetings. Never in her day to day work.

She had just returned from such a meeting, and while she normally made a quick stop at her office in order to ditch the extra garment, she decided to keep it on this time. It seemed to make her passage through the hospital's halls all the quicker. A fact that she both appreciated and hated simultaneously.

Several feet up ahead, two members of her division were being hassled by a pair of smug and irate walking wounded. While Retsu strove not to be judgmental in regards to a shinigami's assignment, she imagined that these two were from the Eleventh Division. They had the greatest propensity toward such behaviour.

Normally, she would have stopped and said a few words to diffuse the confrontation. But today, she simply breezed past them, flicking her haori lightly to assure that all present caught the flash of white. Behind her, the two bullies began hastily stammering apologies to their targets while hurrying as quickly as possible in the opposite direction.

Retsu sighed. This was exactly why she hated wearing the haori; it vaulted her above all others in her presence, as though she were someone to be revered, and hardly a person in her own right. Flaunting authority was a terrible thing, and she wanted no part of it. Consequently, few who entered the hospital from other divisions recognized her as the captain. And that was fine by her. She was here to help people, not stand above them.

Quietly, she entered a room in the intensive care wing to check on a patient she'd been having particular concern about. The girl, Fukui Seiko, rested in bed, motionless save for the steady rise and fall of her chest. Her head was tilted in the other direction, making it difficult to tell whether or not she was conscious, and her injured arm, swathed in bandages, lay above the blanket.

Retsu remembered when Fukui had been brought in, that same arm gushing blood and only scarcely still attached to the rest of her body. Had she arrived only a few minutes later, she might have bled to death. As it was, Retsu had managed to save both her life and her arm, but her consciousness had been intermittent and brief.

"I guess it's time for more treatment, isn't it?"

Retsu blinked, then smiled. "Your perceptions certainly have not been damaged; you are quite correct." She took a few steps until she was at Fukui's bedside. "I am glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

"As well as can be expected," Fukui bit off, still not having turned her head. There was more than a hint of bitterness in her tone, putting some lie to her words. "I wish I could say that it hurts like hell, but . . . I really can't feel anything."

Retsu didn't allow the smile to leave her face. Even though the girl wasn't looking at her, she had always felt it best to show a positive outlook for the sake of a patient's well being. Carefully, she lifted the arm and began unwrapping the bandages. "Quite understandable. After a near severing, nerves are severely damaged and prevent any sensation from getting through. Now that I've made certain you're able to keep the arm, I will do my best to restore your nerves to their proper function."

Fukui's only response was a noncommittal grunt.

Well, Retsu reflected as she probed the arm for nerve endings, she couldn't really blame the girl. Not every healer was able to perform this kind of work; it required a kind of precision and delicacy that was uncommon to find. And in this case, there was quite a bit that was in need of repair. The process was slow, and would likely require a few sessions before it was complete. Perhaps she could restore some of Fukui's faith in the meantime.

"I'm about to start treatment. Let me know if you begin to feel anything."

She didn't wait for a reply before she set to work, figuring that she was unlikely to get one. For several minutes, she focused on one tiny area after another, systematically reconnecting inner pathways bit by bit. Her forced smile became genuine when Fukui suddenly flinched at her touch.

"I suppose I can take that as a positive response," Retsu said lightly.

For the first time, Fukui turned her head, clear grey eyes open with astonishment as she stared down at her arm. Then she shifted her gaze upward. "It's really . . . You . . ." She blinked.

Retsu tilted her head in confusion. "What is it, Fukui-san?"

Fukui seemed at a loss for a moment, but eventually composed herself. "You're the captain. I remember you treating me earlier, but I don't recall seeing the haori. I'm sorry for being so skeptical of your ability, then."

"Anyone would be skeptical about a wound like the one you'd received. I did not take it as an insult." Retsu folded her hands in front of her. "And I am not much in the habit of wearing the haori save at official functions."

At this, Fukui actually laughed, her bitter demeanour vanishing entirely. "Well, I'm still sorry, regardless. And if you're open to suggestions, I think you might want to start wearing that all the time. Lets people know they're in capable hands."

Involuntarily, Retsu blinked. How could she have never considered this angle? The white haori was a symbol of her skill as a healer. Knowing what her abilities were would soothe her patients, calm their fears. And all this time, she had looked at it only as a symbol of authority. How foolish.

"I think I just may do that," she answered at last. She reached out to Fukui's arm again. "Are you ready for more?"

Fukui lifted her other arm in a salute, a playful smirk crossing her lips. "Yes, Unohana-taichou!"

And as Retsu returned to her work, she couldn't help but find that her haori didn't feel quite so heavy anymore.


	12. Mistress of the Deep

**Title:** Mistress of the Deep

**Characters:** Unohana, Minazuki

**Prompt:** #028 – Drowning

**Word Count:** 1,225

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** A dangerous encounter with her zanpakutou spirit leads Retsu to the power that few shinigami achieve.

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

_**Mistress of the Deep**_

How the adjuchas had managed to sneak up on them, they might never know. Retsu's team had been ready to cart the wounded back to Seireitei when the taint of a hollow impinged upon her senses, allowing her only a split second to shunpo out of range. She ordered her people to stay back, to let the more martially inclined among them take up the battle.

Yet even this was not enough, for the fighters were slowly being taken down, too overwhelmed by the hollow's sheer power. Silently, Retsu condemned her foolishness on this matter; all she had done was cause more injury. Perhaps even death. She would no longer have it.

She placed a hand on her fifth seat's shoulder as he began to draw his zanpakutou. At his backward glance, full of anger and fear, she said, "Stay here and guard the wounded. I will handle the matter of combat."

The man loosened his grip on the hilt and gave a reluctant nod. "Understood, Captain."

At this, Retsu stood, and strode toward the front lines, smoothly drawing Minazuki from the sheath. She preferred a more finesse approach to battle, but there was no time to gauge whether that would be enough; she would have no more casualties on her conscience. And that meant she needed to do something that she was unpracticed with as of yet.

She had only recently attained the ability before her captaincy, after all.

_Water crashed over the shore, towering above her before slamming into her and pulling her under. The shock of the cold waves numbed her for several seconds, seeping through every part of her body. Luckily, she had managed to take a deep breath before being dragged into the sea, so her lungs were not yet burning for air. Though they shortly would be._

_Instinctively, Retsu swam toward the surface; she was at far too much of a disadvantage below the waves. She was a bare few feet from breaking the waters when a sharp movement caught her eye, and she lowered her arms to protect her flank._

_The defensive posture did little to diffuse the blow from Minazuki's tail. Pain swept through her arms, and she sunk deeper still into the sea. She ignored the throbbing and once again made a play for the surface, only to have to duck down as Minazuki shot toward her with impressive speed._

_Had she any air, Retsu might have sighed in relief. She had known, of course, that this training was not going to be safe, but Minazuki was attacking her with far more violence than she would have expected from him. He had always been so timid and approval-seeking in the past._

_"Why do you seek to run?" His voice was oddly childish, even now, when there was no gentleness to be found. "I had thought so much better of you, of the strength of your heart. If you truly wish to be my mistress in all respects, you need to prove your authority in my domain. I have no wish to destroy you, but I will if you show unworthiness here."_

_Retsu was able to concentrate on the words, but only by a small margin; her lungs began to cry for oxygen. It wasn't quite desperate, not yet. But that was only a matter of time, and Minazuki had just made it abundantly clear that she wasn't going to get any air until she managed to subdue him._

_But how? Without her sword – for he was the blade itself – she couldn't use her favoured combat style. And she could hardly speak underwater, so kidou was also out of the equation. What else was there?_

_She took another hit, and did not fight the sinking that came along with it. Soreness radiated throughout her back as her mind worked feverishly to come up with some kind of plan. When she sensed yet another attack, she managed to pull what energy she had into a shunpo._

_It was slower than normal, and the distance was not great, but she still managed it. At least there was something that she could still do. How much it helped was something she had yet to discern. Perhaps it could get her above the waves?_

_She shook her head. No; in her current state, it was too far. And she would only earn Minazuki's contempt for the effort._

_Thus she continued to dodge to the best of her ability, her efforts gradually slowing. The lack of oxygen in her brain was clouding her thoughts and it was all she could do to avoid opening her mouth in a vain attempt to take a breath. She would die here shortly if she didn't think of something. And what she did was purely instinctual, with no consciousness behind it._

_She released her reiatsu._

_The surrounding area suddenly felt heavier, and even Minazuki got pushed back a bit from the force. Something clicked in Retsu's mind. Concentrating her reiatsu even more, she shoved back against the water, slowly managing to push it away from her a few feet._

_She took a few desperate gasps for air, reveling in the sensation of just being able to breathe. But she did not allow this revelry to last long. Her respite would be brief and she needed to take advantage of it while she could. This was her last chance._

_She shot her hands out in Minazuki's direction; there wasn't time enough for incantations. "Bakudou thirty-seven: Tsuriboshi!"_

_A net of focused reiatsu sailed in Minazuki's direction, and managed to slow the charge that he had thrust himself into. While it was far from being ineffective, more than one spell was going to be needed to finally stop him. And a single other spell was all that Retsu had time for; she could feel the waters edging back to her._

_"Bakudou sixty-two: Hyappo Rankan!"_

_The water closed over her on the last syllable, and rushed into her lungs. She closed her mouth to avoid taking in further liquid as she watched the rods of light pierce through Minazuki's flesh, binding him to the seafloor._

_And yet still Retsu fought for air, hands scrabbling through the water even as Minazuki fought against the hold. Oh, how she wanted to get her head above the waves, but she could not allow herself the luxury. Not until Minazuki conceded defeat._

_Her mind was nearly blank when she heard the words._

_"Very impressive. Much more of what I have come to expect from you." His voice was amused this time, in spite of his capture. "You may rise, mistress; I acknowledge you. And should you have need to call upon this side of my nature, I will answer. You know the command word."_

_Smiling in spite of herself, Retsu nodded once and managed to claw her way back to the surface._

She stood before the adjuchas now, the forms of fallen shinigami littered around her. Regarding it calmly, she raised Minazuki into a guard position.

The adjuchas laughed. "Still more of you? At least you smell more delicious than the others here. But seriously, little shinigami, just what can you do when these pathetic specimens barely managed to scratch me?"

Her expression did not change, though her grip on the hilt tightened. And in a soft voice, she spoke the command word.

"Bankai."


	13. Absolution

**Title:** Absolution

**Characters:** Unohana

**Prompt:** #005 – Redeemer

**Word Count:** 1,086

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** It wasn't death; it was purification.

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

_**Absolution**_

"I will be along in a moment. You know how to handle matters."

Retsu watched as Isane nodded and followed the rest of their team through the Senkai gate, back to Soul Society. She was glad to see her vice-captain do so without hesitation; Isane lacked confidence in herself and would usually falter a bit when asked to take a leadership role. Perhaps she was at last coming into her own.

With soft steps, Retsu made her way to a small copse of trees near the back of the shrine grounds. She scanned the area with her eyes, but was unable to verify what her other senses were telling her. Which was hardly surprising, considering how easily the eye was fooled. She knew someone was there.

"I am aware of your presence." Her voice was quiet and gentle. "You don't need to hide from me. I am here to help you."

After a moment, a small, scruffy boy moved out from behind a particularly thick tree trunk. His eyes were wide with fear, and he did not approach. Attached to his chest was the telltale chain of fate that marked him as a recently departed soul.

Retsu offered him a sad smile and knelt down to his level. "I'm sorry if I frightened you. But we've cleared the area of the monsters, and I just wanted to assure myself of your safety. If you come closer, I can give you aid."

The boy did not move, his eyes locked upon her; he fisted his hands at his sides. When he spoke, his voice was almost inaudible. "You . . . killed them?"

"No," Retsu replied, shaking her head. "I only came to help those that were injured in the fighting."

For whatever reason, this seemed to reassure the boy a little. He took a few shaky steps forward, though still not too close, and a nervous expression continued to dominate his features. Poor child, having to witness all of that. No wonder that he was so frightened; Retsu could only hope that he was given a good living assignment in Rukongai after she performed his soul burial. Not everyone was that lucky.

"What is your name?" She needed to put the boy's mind at ease so that he would come close enough. He was mistrustful of her already; to approach him while drawing a sword would only invoke panic on his part.

The boy blinked at her, then stared as though trying to ascertain her motives. But a moment later, he answered, "I'm Itsuki." He tilted his head to one side. "Who are you, oneesan?"

Her smile widened at the way he addressed her. "You may call me Retsu. Could you please come a little closer, Itsuki-kun? I cannot help you from such a distance."

Itsuki appeared to consider this for a moment, then stepped forward cautiously. He was just out of arm's reach when he stopped, eyes narrowing slightly. "What can you even do to help me?"

She had made this explanation many times in the past; souls were curious about their fates. Thus her answer was a reflexive one, though in no way untruthful. "I will free you from this place, and send you on to where you now belong."

At this, Itsuki's gaze lowered. Retsu at first thought this was due to sadness, and reached out an arm to comfort him. But he abruptly jerked away from her, face contorted in a sudden rage. "Liar! You did so kill Mama and Papa! You did so! I see your sword; you won't get to use it on me, too!"

Retsu blinked, taken aback by the rapid shift in Itsuki's mood. Obviously, he had seen her zanpakutou and jumped to the wrong conclusion . . . but there was something more than that. Mama and Papa? Shinigami never harmed the living, so if protocol had been followed, that could only mean that . . .

"They said they needed to find people like me to eat so they could stay here!" Itsuki continued to seethe, scrambling backward as his chain of fate began to dissolve. "So I helped them find some! And now you come along and take them away from me and try to trick me into gettin' killed, too!"

She could scarcely believe what she was hearing; Itsuki's parents had become hollows, yet retained enough of their senses not to harm him in order to satiate their newfound appetites. For a second, Retsu was almost touched by this show of parental love – but then she realized that they had just used him in order to find bigger meals.

Finally, she caught sight of the shortening chain of fate, and swiftly drew Minazuki; she had only the shortest of windows before it would be too late for a soul burial. But just as she was about to press the hilt to the boy's forehead, a bright light flared up, forcing her to cover her eyes.

Retsu hopped back at the prompting of a long-honed instinct, feeling the ground tremble as she landed. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision, though she knew she would not be happy with what her eyes told her. And she could only find pity in her heart once she could see again, at the tragedy that greeted her.

Itsuki had become a hollow.

He roared in frustration of having missed her, prying his now gargantuan fist out of the ground. Snarling, he bared his teeth and made another move to crush her.

There was no helping it. Retsu leapt forward, blade poised in front of her. When Itsuki's other first rushed in her direction, she used Minazuki to knock it aside as she continued on her way. A single strike, and she cleaved through the newly formed mask.

She landed lightly, watching without satisfaction as the body dissolved. "Find peace, Itsuki-kun."

Perhaps things could still work out for him. After all, shinigami purified hollows; they didn't destroy them. Itsuki's sins as a ghost counted in the same way as those of a hollow. Whatever wrongs he had committed were wiped clean the second she had cut his mask.

That didn't make the ordeal any less saddening. With a sigh, Retsu reopened the Senkai gate and began the walk back home.


	14. Philosophical Differences

**Title:** Philosophical Differences

**Characters:** Unohana, Kurotsuchi Mayuri

**Prompt:** #034 – Encounter

**Word Count:** 1,037

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** A need to check up on new medical technology leads a reluctant Retsu to a conversation with the new Twelfth Division captain.

**Warnings:** Disturbing imagery (hey, it's Mayuri; what do you expect?)

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

_**Philosophical Differences**_

While she had not found the Twelfth Division compound to be an especially comfortable place before, Retsu found it even more unsettling since Kurotsuchi had taken over command. At least Urahara had been amiable, give or take the occasional double entendre.

Retsu would not have even come here, in fact, if she hadn't needed to check up on the progress of some new medical devices being developed. Sending one of her subordinates for the task was out of the question; they were outright terrified of Kurotsuchi, and she would not subject them to his presence unless it were absolutely necessary.

Not that she was eager to meet with the man herself.

And so she found herself wandering the halls, deliberately avoiding the captain's office and hoping to find an officer from whom she could request information. Her steps were light, yet still echoed forth as an announcement of her presence. After a moment, she spied light leaking through from an open door, and decided that this was as good a place as any to begin her inquiry.

Or so she had thought.

"Unohana-taichou, what do you deem so important that you would interrupt my work?"

She frowned momentarily before schooling her features into an impassive mask. So much for avoiding the man. Kurotsuchi had his back to her, hard at work with something laid out on the table before him. Retsu quelled the stab of curiosity that came to her; she wanted no details of his experiments.

Back straight, she stepped fully into the room, unwilling to be intimidated as so many others were. "I did not mean to interrupt you, Kurotsuchi-taichou. I was in search of one of your subordinate officers so that I might inquire about the status of a project your division has been working on for me. If you could direct me to an appropriate individual, I will leave you to your . . . work."

Kurotsuchi chuckled in that vaguely shrieking manner of his. "Yes, of course. You, who had no confidence in my ability, does not wish to interrupt. I hadn't thought you were one to lie, Unohana-taichou."

She knew he was baiting her, and she refused to rise to it. "It was never your ability that I doubted. You meet all the official requirements for captaincy. My concerns now, as they did then, lie elsewhere."

When Kurotsuchi had made it known that he was seeking leadership of the Twelfth, Retsu had been vocally opposed to the idea. Yes, he was physically capable and frighteningly intelligent, but he was also a monster with little regard for the lives of those around him. And assuming that he cared at all was being generous. He was unfit to lead.

Kurotsuchi waved one hand dismissively, and Retsu noted with some horror that it was covered with blood. "Yes, yes. Those ridiculous restrictions you and so many others place on yourselves. It's hardly a wonder how I manage to get the most done around here."

The urge to see what was on the table gnawed at Retsu again, and after a moment managed to chew its way through her resolve. She strode forward, stopping a few feet behind her host. Her eyes widened at the sight before her.

The form on the table was human-shaped, closer inspection revealing it to be female. But most of the body was exposed, internal organs subjected to the open air. The skull was open at the top, revealing a hint of brain matter. Cords of muscle and tendon ran along bone, no doubt expertly manipulated by Kurotsuchi's hand like some gruesome sewing project. And within the chest cavity, a heart beat steadily, pumping blood throughout the body, save for a few places where it leaked.

This . . . This was . . .

"What have you done, Kurotsuchi-taichou?" she demanded. "If I find that you have sacrificed someone for your own curiosity . . ."

"My, my, such dramatics. Should I be honoured to have breached your legendary calm?" Kurotsuchi's words were polite, but his voice carried a mocking lilt. He reached down to repair one of the leaks. "And I sacrificed no one. It is purely my own creation for reasons that do not concern you. And it is unfortunately not my first attempt at this. Failure annoys me, as I'm sure you know."

Retsu closed her eyes for a moment, reaching for the stability that she had lost. She ignored the commentary on her mood, as it was a clear attempt to put her on the defensive. Instead, she focused on his phrasing. "You refer to her as 'it,' Kurotsuchi-taichou? Such a disgusting show of disrespect. You could at least afford her the common courtesy of proper reference."

Kurotsuchi actually deigned to look at her, painted face full of disturbingly genuine curiosity. "Courtesy? This thing," he said, gesturing to the woman on the table, "does not even have a soul. Yet. And if it is a failure, it will be discarded the same as those before it. Is my conduct really so improper?"

"Everything about your conduct is improper." Retsu did her level best to keep her voice neutral; she would not stoop to losing her temper in front of this man. "But my opinion on the matter carries little weight."

Kurotsuchi snorted and turned his attention back to his work. "I think we have both wasted enough time with each other. The project you are looking for is in laboratory seven. Be gone."

Normally, Retsu would have made some effort at politeness before she left, but she could not muster any words this time. Kurotsuchi's vile philosophies were even worse than she had thought, and anything that she could say at this point would only create trouble.

She turned on her heel, and stalked out of the room.


	15. Until Proven Guilty

**Title:** Until Proven Guilty

**Characters:** Unohana, Gin, Kira

**Prompt:** #010 – Writer's Choice (Mistrust)

**Word Count:** 1,050

**Rating:** PG

**Summary:** Retsu goes to the Third Division to discuss some rather suspicious patients with Gin.

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

_**Until Proven Guilty**_

Retsu made an effort to smother her anger as she followed Kira to the Third Division offices. She didn't want him to get the wrong idea; her issue was not with him, but with his captain. And an excess of the emotion would keep her from maintaining the control she needed in this matter.

Nevertheless, Kira cast her a nervous glance from over his shoulder. Clearly, she did not have as much reign over her feelings as she had thought. But there was nothing to be done about the effects now.

When they reached the door, Retsu kept her eyes fixed firmly ahead. No need to make Kira's discomfort worse by staring at him. Her fists were lightly clenched at her sides, hidden from sight by the long sleeves of her haori. Ichimaru loved to tease, and she planned to give him as little as possible to work with. This was not a game.

"Ichimaru-taichou, Unohana-taichou requests permission to speak with you." To his credit, Kira's voice did not shake even once at the announcement.

There was a lazy sound of acknowledgement from the office, and Kira slid the door open for her. Retsu wasted no time stepping around him and coming face to face with the Third Division captain, who was currently seated at his cluttered desk.

But not doing any actual work, she noted. Instead, Ichimaru's feet were propped up on his desk, and he slouched in his chair. He had his zanpakutou drawn and casually bounced a rubber ball back and forth along the broad side of the blade. And all the while, he grinned like a child with a new toy.

The sight was unaccountably sinister.

"Well, good afternoon to ya, Fourth Captain-san," Ichimaru greeted amiably. "What could bring ya here? I ain't missin' anything, am I?"

Retsu kept her eyes from narrowing, even though he hadn't even deigned to turn his attention from his mindless activity. One was never certain just how much the man could see. "Not as such. But I need to speak with you on an issue of some importance, one that for the time being at least, remains between us." She gave a small backward glance at Kira. "If you would dismiss your vice captain, we could begin the discussion proper."

Ichimaru actually lifted his head at this, grin widening as he caught sight of Kira standing behind her. "Aw, that ain't necessary. Izuru is a good little boy who can be trusted. Anything ya need to say to me, ya can say in front of him. Right, Izuru?"

"Well . . . yes . . ." Kira cleared his throat in obvious discomfort. "But, I do have some work I need to tend to around the division, so . . ."

Ichimaru chuckled. "Oh, fine. Work if ya need to. You ain't any fun, ya know that?" Once Kira had scampered away with some measure of dignity intact, he went back to watching the bouncing ball. "Kid needs to loosen up. So what's this important issue you're on about? I'm kinda busy."

In spite of herself, Retsu lifted an eyebrow at this statement. Busy, indeed. But it was not her business if he chose to be lax in his duties. Her fists tightened just a bit, but she managed to keep her voice neutral when she spoke. "I've had an unusually high admittance of patients with very suspicious injuries. Quite serious ones, at that."

The frown that Ichimaru offered was clearly false. And he still wasn't looking at her. "Well, that's a right shame, ain't it? I dunno what that's got to do with me, though. Helpin' the injured is your department."

She couldn't help it this time; her face darkened. The injuries these people had suffered were exceedingly cruel, and so severe that it wasn't even clear whether they had been inflicted by a hollow, or a zanpakutou. And the only common thread was that they all had recent contact with Ichimaru. Whether the man had done it himself – which she would certainly not put past him, sadistic as he was – or had merely created the scenario, she did not know. And it was those answers that she sought to find here.

"I suppose the fact that even those outside the Third Division that I treated mentioned your name in relation to these incidents means nothing?" Before Retsu could stop the impulse, her hand shot out and snatched the rubber ball in mid-bounce. She would make him pay proper attention to this subject.

"Hey! That ain't nice," Ichimaru whined, looking up at her at last. "And those guys're probably just delirious, and all that. People get that way when they're hurt that bad; I don't think I should hafta tell ya this stuff." Smoothly, he sheathed his zanpakutou. "And it's also mean to go around accusin' people of things when ya ain't got any proof. If ya had anything on me, you'd be talkin' to the old man instead of comin' over here."

Her eye twitched. As much as she loathed to admit it, he was right; had she any hard evidence of her suspicions, she would have gone straight to Yamamoto-soutaichou so that an official investigation could be launched. As it was, she had hoped to get Ichimaru to incriminate himself; an outright confession was something she never expected to get. But he had neither confirmed nor denied a single thing.

It wasn't enough.

Retsu set the ball down as gently as she could atop a messy stack of requisition forms. "Then perhaps I have wasted my time here. The matter, for now, is closed. But do not think for a moment that I have forgotten this."

Ichimaru made no move to retrieve the ball. Instead, he leaned back further in his chair and cocked his head to one side. "Makin' threats, now, too? I thought ya were a whole lot nicer than that."

"I do what is necessary to protect life," she said. She schooled her features into her usual neutral mask. "If that means threats must be made, then so be it. Ichimaru-taichou." She inclined her head in farewell.

"Well, how 'bout that? Mighty scary. Is that why everyone's so afraid of ya, Fourth Captain-san?"

Retsu did not dignify that with a reply before she left.


	16. The Hopeful

**Title:** The Hopeful

**Characters:** Unohana, Yamamoto

**Prompt:** #004 – Sore

**Word Count:** 1,099

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** Yamamoto visits the Unohana estate to evaluate their young prodigy.

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

**_The Hopeful_**

Finally, a pause in the action. Retsu peeled a few sweat-soaked strands of hair from her cheeks as she looked up at her opponent. Her other hand kept a firm grasp of the sword she held in a ready position. It was a real blade this time, unlike the bokutou she had been using until little more than a month ago. While she had gotten used to the different weight by now, it still felt strange to carry a true weapon. But she could not afford to concentrate upon that strangeness.

She lifted her blade at the sudden flash of steel in front of her, managing to block the strike. But the opposing sword slid along hers, reversing its direction once the tip was clear – she ducked hurriedly to avoid this new attack.

And already another one came for her, this time aimed toward her legs. Retsu dove to the side a mere second too late; the sword bit lightly into her flesh, drawing a long cut down her calf. She hissed in pain as she fell to her knees, but the words for a healing kidou were already forming on her lips. The wound wasn't serious, but it could impede her mobility, and this was something that she could not afford.

More movement above her. She rolled to the side, still chanting her spell, sword gripped tenuously in one hand. The dull sound of a blade impacting stone resounded through her ears. She had expected to be on the defensive against this opponent, though she'd had no idea that the match would be this serious.

Had she not known better, she would have sworn that he was trying to kill her.

Retsu completed her spell, pressing her free hand to the leg wound so that her power could knit the skin back together. She hadn't used healing kidou on herself very often, so she was still unused to the itch that came over the bonding flesh. Not that she had time to worry over something so trivial.

As she began to rise, the sword came down again; she gripped her hilt with both hands and brought it into an overhead block. Retsu gritted her teeth as she strained against the pressure, trying to exercise enough of her own to match it. No matter that such a thing was futile. Her opponent had the strength advantage on her, and she well knew that. The question was whether she should dive to the side once again, or use this opportunity for an attack at the exposed flank.

But the situation was decided for her when her opponent withdrew his blade, leaving her to collapse in exhaustion. She looked up, anticipating another attack, but instead was greeted with a mild smile on the man's elderly face.

"Determination and focus," he said in a deep, rumbling voice. He let out an approving chuckle. "You certainly possess such qualities. And a good instinct for defense." He lifted his sword back into a guard position. "But defense is only one side of battle. Show me, little one, the way you attack."

Retsu blinked at the words, but did not protest them. One did not talk back to Yamamoto Genryuusai unless there was an extremely good reason. Though her palms were sweaty and her fingers trembled, she took a firm hold of her sword as she climbed back to her feet. She steadily locked her gaze with his, not out of challenge, but out of respect. As subtly as she could, she took a few deep breaths to gather her courage. A final adjustment of her grip, and she leaped to the offense.

It would have appeared a strange sight to any onlooker: a tall, elderly man fighting against a small girl only beginning to grow into womanhood. One would have expected the strikes to be feeble and sloppy, but there was both force and fluidity to each of their motions. Retsu tried every angle and technique that she could think of in order to score a blow, not hesitant about the violence of her attacks simply because she did not expect to land that blow. And if by some miracle she did, she had confidence in her ability to heal the injury.

Yamamoto deftly parried each of her strikes, very few of them even coming close to his body. He did not dodge; clearly he did not feel that such a thing was necessary. That same calm smile never faded from his lips. In the midst of her rapid strategizing, Retsu found it in herself to be happy that she seemed to be impressing him. That had been the whole reason for Yamamoto's visit, after all.

But after a few minutes, she was spent. Retsu fell back, panting heavily, fingers begging to go limp, and she was finally feeling the pain of all the bruises she had suffered at the mercy of Ryuujin Jakka's hilt. She held firm, though, unwilling to show any more weakness that she already had. Once more, she leveled her eyes with his, awaiting his appraisal.

He studied her a moment before he spoke. "Raw. But that is to be expected, given your youth. There is much potential to be found in your bladework, I think; your father did not exaggerate this point. And the knowledge of healing kidou is an unexpected benefit."

Retsu kept her face neutral at the positive assessment of her abilities, though she inwardly rejoiced. It wasn't just anyone who impressed Yamamoto, and even fewer were the ones he deigned worthy to be his pupil. Retsu's father had thought her skilled enough for the latter, and now she would see if his confidence would prove correct.

Yamamoto willed his zanpakutou back into its unassuming cane form, and folded both hands on top of it. "Sheathe your sword, Unohana Retsu. You have passed the test; I will take the liberty of informing your father of your success, and we will discuss your training regimen."

"Yes. Thank you, Yamamoto-sensei." Retsu did as commanded, then bowed deeply at the waist. Though she tried to suppress it, she felt a smile tug successfully at the corners of her lips.

Yamamoto nodded and turned on his heel, exiting the courtyard and heading back to the house to speak with her father. Now that he was gone, there was no reason to resist the smile and she gratefully let it take over her face.

She was exhausted, she was trembling, she was bloody, and she was more sore than she had ever been. She'd never felt better in her life.


	17. Preventive Care

**Title:** Preventive Care

**Characters:** Unohana, Shunsui, Ukitake

**Prompt:** #006 – Violence

**Word Count:** 999

**Rating:** PG-13

**Summary:** For the first time, Shunsui and Ukitake have borne witness to Retsu's combat abilities.

**Warnings:** I think the prompt speaks for itself on this one.

**_Preventive Care_**

The sentiment had been thoughtful, although completely unnecessary. Retsu wiped her blade clean on her haori before sliding back into its sheath and tucking a loosened lock of hair back behind her ear. It had been rather a workout, for a change. But her participation had certainly been needed.

She smiled gently in the direction of Juushirou and Shunsui, neither of whom was making an effort to disguise their dumbfounded expressions. After a moment, she could not suppress the giggle. Honestly, she was a captain just as they were. Should they have been so stunned? She'd made jaws drop in the past – indeed, a quick glance around the battlefield betrayed that a few people would likely have to change their hakama when they got back – but it was a strange thing to see it happen to not one, but two of her contemporaries. Terribly amusing, in all.

"I appreciate your rushing to my aid," she said lightly. "But as you can see, I am quite all right."

This seemed to snap them both out of their awestruck states, but Shunsui was the one who found his voice first, even if it did lack its usual smoothness. "Oh, of course, of course! My profoundest apologies, Retsu-chan . . . er . . . Unohana-taichou. We had no intention of downplaying your abilities! Really!" He elbowed Juushirou indiscreetly. "Right, Juushirou?"

Juushirou blinked before he got enough wits together to speak. "Of course not! No disrespect was intended. Just . . . the urge to help is instinctive, so . . ."

"I understand that." She surveyed the grounds, where her people were tending to the wounded. Those last few Hollow had sprung up out of nowhere, and she was not about to have anyone else injured by waiting for reinforcements. Eventually, she turned her gaze back to her two friends. "What I do not understand is this sudden terror that has consumed the both of you. Surely I am not so frightening?"

Again, both of them fell silent. But really, why? She had never turned her blade upon an ally, and could not imagine she would ever find a cause to do so. This fear was completely irrational. Surely they could not be so intimidated by the way she had dealt with the last Hollow.

_She didn't have time to get in position for a proper blow after finishing off her opponent, thus she whirled about, swinging her blade in a downward arc to slice at the ankle of the passing Huge Hollow. Her weapon bit through flesh, muscle, and tendon, sending a garish spray of blood over her uniform and face._

_To her surprise, and its credit, the Hollow did not stumble and fall from her attack. Rather, it roared in pain and swung out a clawed hand in her direction. She was unable to evade the blow entirely; though she jumped backward, the claws sliced a set of rips into her haori and lopped off a few inches of her braid, freeing her usually bound hair to fall in haphazard fashion._

_She lifted her sword to block the next strike, relying on deeper senses since her loosened hair impeded her sight. The blade bit deep, causing the Hollow to draw back its hand in pain before Retsu had time to withdraw._

_Flung into the air, she found it difficult to maintain her grip. But with effort, she managed to do so, wrenching her sword from the flesh._

_The awkward motion did not afford her enough time to get her bearings, and she landed hard on her side before using the momentum to roll to her feet. For a second, she took stock of her condition. Very little pain. Most likely only some minor bruising, thus hardly anything for which she needed to spare concern._

_When she heard Shunsui and Juushirou rushing to her aid behind her, she extended one arm in a gesture for them to stay back. "Hold," she said simply. "I am able to finish this."_

_They would listen to her, she knew, even though they were all equal in rank. Thus she did not feel the need to look back before leaping forward. This Hollow was not going to break through the lines and bring further harm to the patrols. Or to anyone else._

_She darted under the claws, slicing the Hollow's other foot in identical fashion to the first. As it crashed to the ground, she executed a shunpo toward its mask. Yet again, a hand came out to swipe at her, but this time it would not slow her the least. Switching her sword to her left hand, she nonchalantly lopped off the limb. Then, with a practiced motion, she reversed her grip and cleaved through the mask from bottom to top._

_Landing with her usual grace, she watched as the Hollow's body dissolved._

Retsu chuckled when it became clear that neither of her friends could find it in them to answer her. She occasionally frightened subordinates without intending such, but scaring a pair of captains was something special. Though she was still unsure as to why they were so disturbed to see her do something that they were just as capable of doing themselves.

But no one could know everything.

She walked between Shunsui and Juushirou, who continued to eye her nervously. For a second, she paused behind them and looked over her shoulder with a serene smile on her face. "Come now, you two. Are you always going to be so frightened when I choose to exercise a little preventive care?"

Retsu didn't wait for an answer before continuing on her way. But she did hear their voices after she was several feet away, and her smile morphed into a full grin.

"You know, Juushirou, your paramour there is one scary woman," came Shunsui's apprehensive tone.

Juushirou groaned. "Please don't start this now."

Retsu only shook her head and left her friends to themselves. She had less violent work still to do.


	18. Housewarming

**Title:** Housewarming

**Characters:** Unohana, Isane

**Prompt:** #012 – Iris

**Wordcount:** 1,023

**Rating:** K

**Summary:** Retsu helps Isane settle into her new position as vice-captain.

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

**_Housewarming_**

When Retsu went to meet Isane in the main courtyard, she could not help but smile. The girl stood at attention, displaying her impressive height, badge tied securely to one arm. It was all well and good she appeared ready to take on her new duties, but such stiffness was hardly required. She decided against pointing this out, though; Isane was clearly nervous enough as it was, and Retsu did not want to give her the impression that she was doing something wrong.

"Ah, good morning, Isane," Retsu said, inclining her head politely. "If you do not mind me addressing you as such. Congratulations on your new position."

Isane blinked before bowing at the waist. And to her credit, her voice was clear and strong when she spoke. "Good morning to you, Unohana-taichou. And no, I don't mind; address me as you see fit." She flushed a little. "Oh, but I can't take credit for my position. You're the one who gave me this chance . . ."

"Had you not been qualified, you would not have been promoted. Who deserves credit for that other than you?" Retsu reached up to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Your ability and demeanour speak for themselves; you deserve this more than anyone else. Come."

She turned on her heel, haori sweeping gracefully around her legs, and started for the head offices. Instantly, she heard Isane fall into step behind her, measuring her stride so as not to overtake her.

Though Isane dwarfed her physically, she came off as so much smaller. A shy self-consciousness permeated her entire being, along with nagging doubts about her abilities. Retsu would not say that she felt sorry for her – pity would have been demeaning – but these were things she hoped Isane might learn to outgrow in time. She had already come so far even with these insecurities; she would be truly amazing once she'd worked through them.

The path to her office was a familiar one that her feet followed without benefit of thought. More than likely Isane's, too; it was a familiar destination for senior officers, and Isane had seen it often as a fourth seat. Thus the distance took little time to traverse.

As far as offices went, Retsu's did not stand out in any particular way. Perhaps only for the item that she had placed on Isane's desk earlier in the morning as a welcome gift. That particular piece had certainly caught the young woman's attention, judging from the soft gasp that escaped her lips.

Far be it for Retsu not to give her new vice-captain a proper and meaningful welcome. Thus the flower arrangement that she had prepared the previous night sitting on the desk. She had carefully taken the time to consider the associated meanings of each flower in order to properly express what was awkward for some people to say, or for other people to hear. Isane was one of the latter.

She watched as Isane stepped forward, brushing her fingers against the edges of petals as she leaned in to smell the arrangement. A peaceful look came over her formerly nervous features. Retsu smiled, seeing this.

Some of the anxiousness returned by the time Isane faced her again. "Thank you so much for the gift, Unohana-taichou. It's lovely. I . . . I don't know that I'm worthy of what this represents, though . . ."

There she went again. Putting down her own accomplishments. It would be a long time coming, perhaps, before she recognized that she deserved her new rank. But that did not mean that Retsu was going to allow her to make such negative commentary about herself in the meantime.

Retsu stepped forward, bending to take in the aroma herself before speaking. "You do know what each of these flowers means, yes?" She knew this to be true; Isane was a regular at her ikebana classes. But she still waited for the acknowledging nod before continuing, pointing to each different flower in turn, from the outermost toward the centre.

"The moss, representing maternal affection," she said as she traced her fingers over the outermost edge. "Wisteria for welcome, freesia for the trust I have in you . . ."

Isane flushed, self-consciously adjusting her vice-captain's badge. "As I said, I'm not sure that I . . ."

"Isane. Please do not interrupt me." Retsu's voice was calm and soft as always as she indicated the next flower, the smile returning to her features. "Caladium to express the delight it will be to work with you. And so we come to the centre." Here, she turned back to Isane. "Perhaps it would be best for you to voice what this blossom represents."

Isane's feet shifted, a sign of her obvious discomfort. For a moment, she looked away, unable to meet her gaze. But she managed to gather herself before she spoke, regarding her with a determination well out of proportion to the question. At any other time, Retsu would have found this amusing, but the matter of Isane's self-worth was a serious one.

"A blue iris," she said, soft tone at odds with her stern countenance. "Representative of faith, wisdom, hope, and valour. Also . . . of treasured friendship."

Once Isane finished, the forced expression faltered, returning her yet again into a self-conscious young girl. She said nothing more, clearly ill at ease with the symbolic significance.

"And it is at the centre because all of these are qualities that you possess yourself, whether you choose to realize it or not," Retsu finished. "And I have no doubt that the treasured friendship will come in time, just as I've no doubts as to your ability to perform your duties skillfully."

Isane blinked at these words, a shy smile forming on her lips. "Thank you, Unohana-taichou. I'll do my best to validate your faith in me."

It wasn't quite the confidence that Retsu had been hoping for, but it was a start. Such ingrown perceptions could not be overcome in a few minutes. "I know you will."

With the proper nurturing, Isane would bloom into an iris yet.


	19. Suitability

**Title:** Suitability

**Characters:** Unohana, Isane

**Prompt:** #015 – Question

**Word Count:** 1,154

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** After a sword training session, Isane asks Retsu if her blade is truly suited to an officer of the Fourth.

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

_**Suitability**_

Retsu regarded Isane's sheepish expression with amusement. What was there to be so embarrassed about? She failed to see where any wrong had been committed. Then again, Isane was prone to think that she had erred when she in fact had not – an unhealthy habit that she had yet to overcome.

She braced herself when Isane came at her, blade swinging out to block the released sword. Turning hers slightly, she slid it down the length of Isane's until it rested between the sword and one of its prongs. They locked in a momentary stalemate.

Retsu's smile widened when Isane twisted her sword in an attempt to wrest Minazuki from her hands. Good girl. But a fruitless effort, in the end.

She let the momentum carry her for a second, then added her own strength, making the manoeuver her own. Her eyes caught the tension in Isane's wrist as she tried to resist. And while she was doing an admirable job, eventually that wrist twisted hard enough that Isane had no choice but to let go. Retsu quickly extricated her own blade as Itegumo spun out of Isane's grasp and thudded onto the firm earth beneath their feet.

Retsu sheathed her zanpakutou as Isane tended to her wrist, a faint glow surrounding her opposite hand. The injury would not take long to heal; it was minor, and while an injury of this nature on such a small area required a deft touch, Isane was more than equal to the task.

But the young woman's face was still troubled when she finished her kidou and bent to retrieve her zanpakutou, which had reverted into its sealed state without her to command it. Most curious, and most inappropriate. She'd done nothing wrong.

Frowning slightly, Retsu asked, "What is it that bothers you today?"

Isane faltered for a second, a guilty look in her eyes, but then regained some measure of composure. "It's just that when we sparred, I . . ." She awkwardly pointed behind Retsu; realizing that she had done so with her sword, she flushed and sheathed it. "I didn't mean to cause any destruction. It's the nature of Itegumo's ability, but it's not really something that I should be doing."

Retsu blinked and looked over her shoulder. She had chosen a valley at the base of a Rukongai mountain for this training session, and the landscape was littered with boulders and smaller rocks. And one of the larger boulders was in frozen pieces, doubtless pulverized by a blast of icy mist from Isane's zanpakutou. Was that all? Yet again, she failed to see the problem.

"Itegumo would not have chosen you were you not the proper wielder," she said, regarding Isane gravely. "Therefore, his ability is not inappropriate for you. Do not be ashamed of his power."

Isane would not meet her eyes. "Yes, Unohana-taichou. I'm sorry."

She almost opened her mouth to tell Isane that she needn't apologize over everything, but stopped herself. That would not help someone so lacking in self-assurance. Rather, it would only serve to enhance the needless guilt. So she let it be, and instead spoke Minazuki's release command, her sword dissolving into a green mist and gradually reforming itself into a giant, one-eyed manta ray. She was about to climb onto his back when Isane's voice stopped her.

"Unohana-taichou?" So soft were the words that they were barely audible. "May I ask you an important question?"

Retsu nodded once. "Certainly. What is it?"

"Do you think . . ." Her words were only marginally louder now. "Do you really think, given that Itegumo has no healing powers, that it's right for me to be an officer in the Fourth? Especially the vice-captain?"

Brow furrowed, Retsu regarded her vice-captain carefully. So that was the issue; Isane still doubted her right to her position. In a way, she could see why she found her sword's powers to be all wrong, considering that she was a healer first and foremost. But her view of the situation was too naïve, too narrow. Perhaps she could correct that.

"Come, Isane," she commanded as she at last climbed onto Minazuki's back. "I will explain things as we return to Seireitei."

Isane followed her up, eyes wide and inquisitive, a mixture of hope and worry within their depths. Absently, she patted Minazuki on the back as he took to the skies; unlike so many others, she had never looked at him with fear or disgust. Both she and the spirit had taken to each other from the start.

Retsu smiled as Minazuki leveled off his flight, not taking her gaze away from the fabulous landscape of mountains and valleys below; she never tired of such wondrous sights. But she sensed the expectancy in Isane's aura, and returned herself to the matter at hand.

"Healing zanpakutou are very rare," she began. "Perhaps because a sword form is at odds with repairing damage. Of all the Fourth's officers, only five possess a zanpakutou of a healing nature – myself included."

There was a brief silence as Isane digested these statements. "I suppose I hadn't considered that. But still, shouldn't the vice-captain be one to have such a sword?"

Sighing, Retsu shook her head. "The nature of your weapon has nothing to do with your rank. Your own personal ability is what got you where you are today." Her last vice-captain, Yamada Seinosuke, had possessed a healing zanpakutou, but that was a bonus to his rank, not a requirement. "We may be healers first, Isane, but we are shinigami still; having an offense does not contradict our duties."

When she looked up, she noted with some pleasure that some of the anxiety had melted away from Isane's features, and she no longer strove to avoid eye contact. But there was still some unease there, and Retsu would have liked nothing better than to have erased it completely.

"If we can't protect our charges, then healing them is useless," Isane said at last. She was finally gaining a broader understanding of her role. She rubbed at Minazuki's back again. "Still, Minazuki is . . ."

A wry smile crossed Retsu's lips. "He is a healer? Yes, quite true. But tell me, why do you assume that is where all his powers lie?"

Isane blinked in surprise. "But, I've never seen him do anything else. You mean that . . ."

"Ah, yes. You've only seen the shikai." She chuckled. "Bankai is quite a different story, however. I have been told that it is actually quite frightening. And word travels, rumours spread . . . Did you not ever wonder why everyone – even those such as Kyouraku-taichou and Ukitake-taichou – treads lightly around me? Minazuki can be as fearsome as any spirit should the need arise. I hope all of this information has been useful in answering your question."

Isane only nodded numbly, remaining wide-eyed for the remainder of the trip.


	20. In Winter's Care

**Title:** In Winter's Care

**Characters:** Unohana, Hitsugaya

**Prompt:** #048 – December

**Word Count:** 761

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Some see winter as a season of death. But to Retsu, it has always been a season that preserves life.

**Warnings:** Little bit of bloody description

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

**_In Winter's Care_**

The surrounding chill bit fiercely through Retsu's clothing, and yet she did not shiver. Behind her, she heard Isane chanting the kidou that would allow her to communicate what they had learned about Aizen Sousuke to all that were in immediate need to know. What exactly his plans were was not something that she could discern, so for now she would leave that to the others and focus on saving the two lives that he'd sought to claim at the revelation of his betrayal.

Hitsugaya lay before her now, eyes wide and glassy, haori soaked through with the blood from a long wound, reaching from shoulder to hip. Deep as it was, he should have bled out from it already, while Aizen had been explaining the true power of his zanpakutou, perhaps. But Retsu could understand why he had not, and figured the same for Hinamori, who lay severely injured several metres away.

She drew her sword, whispered the release command. Minazuki materialized from a cloud of green fog, and gave a disapproving shudder at the cold. But his expression softened when he caught sight of Hitsugaya's crumpled form, and he let out a sorrowful call at the boy's condition.

Retsu blinked when she felt small fingers clutch the hem of her haori, tugging lightly as though trying to gain her attention. She knelt beside Hitsugaya at this urging, noting that while his eyes were still clouded, there was a spark of lucidity still in their depths. He tried to speak, but it seemed he was not able to bring much volume to his voice. Retsu leaned closer, until she was finally able to pick up what he was trying to say.

"H . . . her . . . first," he rasped, his light breathing creating steam in the frigid air. "Hina . . . mori . . . she's . . . I couldn't . . ."

Under less dire circumstances, Retsu might have smiled at this sort of devotion. It was, at its core, very sweet. And while she normally did try to smile to put her patients at ease, she could not muster up the strength to do so at the moment, with the implications of Aizen's betrayal spinning rapidly through her mind. Besides, a smile really wasn't what Hitsugaya needed right now.

"Your part in protecting her is over for the time being, Hitsugaya-taichou," she said softly. "I ask you to have faith in me that I will do mine. And though you might not realize it, you did save her."

Hitsugaya's suddenly furrowed brow must have been the result of an involuntary motion; Retsu could not imagine someone in his condition doing it consciously. "I . . . I didn't . . . What are . . . you . . ."

Retsu reached into a pocket sewn into the inside of her haori. "You did. I will explain later, if you wish." She withdrew the bottle of shinten and placed a drop of the liquid onto his forehead, instantly knocking him unconscious.

She rose to her feet, motioning for Minazuki to pick up Hitsugaya, and instructing him to follow her once he was finished. There was still another life to preserve.

Ice cracked under her feet as she walked, echoing almost ominously throughout the room. And yet this ice was a blessing to the injured here. When Hitsugaya had released his bankai within these walls, he'd brought in a blast of December that overpowered the month of June that they were in; that the ice still remained with its master unconscious was a testament to its strength. And the cold had a great many effects on the body, the most important of which in this case was the slowing of blood circulation.

A quick examination of Hinamori's motionless body was all that Retsu needed in order to ask Minazuki to draw her into his mouth as well. Another few moments and it could have been the end for her. Without the sudden and severe drop in temperature, it would have been too late.

So many people lamented December's onset, associating the winter season with nothing but death. Not that winter did not kill, of course; there was certainly that side. But what people tended to overlook was that it could preserve life just as well as it could destroy it. The fact that there were a pair of friends resting in Minazuki's restorative fluids rather than a pair of corpses lying on the cold ground was proof.

Sometimes, December could stave off death, too.


	21. Trivial Things

**Title:** Trivial Things

**Characters:** Unohana

**Prompt:** #001 – Worms

**Word Count:** 988

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** Some might say the lives of such creatures are insignificant. Retsu disagrees.

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

_**Trivial Things**_

The scent of rain had still been heavy in the air when Retsu and Takahiro had ventured out of the estate to play. Puddles were scattered all over the walkways, and the grassy patches squished beneath their feet as they ran. Neither of them cared; they had been confined to the indoors for three days because of the near-incessant storms and were eager for the fresh air that the outside brought.

Retsu growled under her breath as Takahiro escaped her grasp yet again. He was older, taller, and faster than her, and it made games like tag difficult to win. Not that winning was everything, but managing it once in a while was nice. In the face of her brother's physical advantages, Retsu resorted to using her head. She grinned a little; Takahiro might have the physical edge, but she was smarter than him.

Abruptly, she broke off her chase and angled herself to a tiny space between a pair of tall bushes. She sped through easily, small frame barely brushing against them as she passed. Another turn, and she was running toward the cherry blossom tree they always used as their base.

Takahiro burst into her field of vision a few seconds later, his back half turned away from her. Though her legs began to ache, Retsu pushed forward, one arm outstretched in the hopes of catching him before he noticed her presence.

No such luck. Takahiro glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening; he dove instantly, sliding across the muddy ground, and his fingertips touched the bark of the cherry blossom tree. Safe.

Each of them stopped to catch their breath, Retsu bending over and putting her hands on her knees. She glanced at her brother almost mischievously; that was the closest she had ever come to catching him, and she was quite proud of it. Perhaps she would manage to do so before very long.

When she'd gained enough breath to stand, she straightened to see that Takahiro had pulled himself upright, covered head to toe in mud, and leaning up against the tree. But he was not as amused by her tactic as she was, evidently; the annoyed glare he inflicted upon her was proof.

"Cheater," was all he said.

Retsu's brow furrowed indignantly. "What part of what I did was cheating? There isn't a rule that I have to chase you directly." She lifted her chin in a show of seven-year-old noble pride. "The only reason you say so is because I nearly caught you this time. Such poor sportsmanship does not befit a clan heir."

Takahiro rolled his eyes. "Stop talking like that. You sound like an old woman." He crossed his arms and lowered his gaze. But then his eyes widened, and he knelt back down in the muddy grass. "Well, would you look at that?"

Her annoyance faded at his last words, and she blinked, kneeling beside him and thoroughly staining the fine fabric of her yukata. She was about to ask what they were supposed to be looking at, but Takahiro's sudden disgusted sound interrupted her.

"Ugh! What do you think you're doing, stupid?" he asked. "Stand up, already. Okaasama will get mad at you for getting so dirty."

Retsu titled her head, taking in all of the muck coating him; she was rather clean in comparison. "And she won't be angry at you for the same?"

"It's different for boys. She expects me to get dirty."

Having lost interest in the inane conversation, Retsu peered more closely at the ground and finally saw what had caught her brother's attention. A pair of worms writhed upon the wet earth where he had slid, nearly split in half from the rough motion. They still lived, though she imagined that they were in enormous pain. Poor creatures. Perhaps she could help.

She picked one up without hesitation, resting it gently in her palm. The worm continued to writhe, and she used a pair of fingers on her free hand to hold its body together where it had split. Retsu closed her eyes in preparation for her next action; her mother had taught her this technique, though she had not had much occasion to use it.

Takahiro's hand rested on her shoulder. "Hey, are you okay? What is it you think you can do, anyway?"

Retsu paid him no mind, and began to whisper the incantation that she had committed to memory. A thin stream of power flowed through her, and she concentrated that stream through her fingertips. The glow around her hands was obvious even to her closed eyes, and she could sense the worm's body knitting together due to her efforts.

Smiling, she opened her eyes to confirm what her senses told her, and she let out an exclamation of delight when she saw that she was indeed successful. And it hadn't even been that difficult. Gingerly, she set the first worm down, and it burrowed beneath the ground.

She repeated the process with the other one. Another successful procedure, and her heart swelled with pride. She was actually rather good at this whole healing business.

Takahiro's voice came from above her; he must have stood sometime during her spellcasting. "I see Okaasama has been teaching you a few things. But seriously, Retsu, what's the big deal? They're worms. Why bother?"

Retsu looked up at him and blinked in confusion. "Well, why not? It must have been awful for them, being hurt like that. Why should I let that go on if I can stop it?"

Takahiro didn't seem to have an answer for this. He stared at her blankly for a moment before saying, "Whatever. Just come on, silly." He took hold of her arm and tugged her to her feet. "We ought to get cleaned up before Okaasama sees us."

Retsu shrugged and followed along without resistance. Even a possible scolding from their mother couldn't ruin her day now.


	22. Beyond Limitations

**Title:** Beyond Limitations

**Characters:** Unohana, Byakuya

**Prompt:** #022 – Unforgiven

**Word Count:** 731

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** People often remember what you can't do more than what you can.

**Warnings:** None

**_Beyond Limitations_**

It was no longer her place behind the screen, and she knew that. And sadly, her presence there would do no good. Retsu had done all that she could for the woman, but in the end, it was not enough to save her life. Kuchiki Hisana would spend her final moments with her husband, not with someone whom she had scarcely met. Such was proper.

Retsu stood alone in a hallway of the Kuchiki manor, hands clasped lightly in front of her. Once Hisana passed, it would be her duty to answer any questions that the family may yet have. Not that they would be happy at what those answers were, but they deserved them all the same.

A long hour passed, and Retsu had sensed Hisana's death a bare twenty minutes through. But it was not until just now that the screen slid open, and she was met with the blank countenance of Kuchiki Byakuya. In spite of how hot-tempered he had been as a child, Byakuya had grown into the stoicism that was often present in his family. If he were suppressing emotion now, Retsu would have preferred him to stop. He would do no one any favours, least of all himself, if he buried his grief.

She inclined her head respectfully. "I am deeply sorry that I was unable to help your wife, Kuchiki-sama." Though he was her fellow captain in the Gotei, she would not refer to him as such at a time like this. For the moment, he was not a distinguished captain; he was a newly-widowed man. "If there is anything you wish to ask me in regard to this matter, I will do my best to provide you with answers."

There was suddenly emotion in his eyes, hard and flinty, but otherwise his expression remained the same. "Perhaps you could see fit to explain why someone of your reputed gifts could fail at this task."

"With respect, Kuchiki-sama," she began evenly. Anyone else might have balked at his harshness, or grown angry at his insinuation. But Retsu was patient. "I, as anyone else, have my limitations. A healer I may be, but not all things can be healed."

Byakuya's face did not change, and Retsu found herself wishing that it would. A depression, a glare, any sign that he was not trying to repress his feelings. But he had become too entrenched in his family's ways, perhaps. Or maybe this was the way in which he was trying to work out his grief, foolish as that was.

"That does not answer my question." There was an edge in his voice this time, sharp as a blade. "When I sought you out, it was with the understanding that you of all people would not find this beyond your ability. It would seem that I was mistaken." Stiffly, he made a move to walk past her, not even sparing her another glance.

"Kuchiki-sama." Retsu's voice was firmer, now. He could leave afterward, but first he would hear what she had to say. And indeed, he did stop at her words, though that was the only acknowledgement that she received. "You may choose not to believe this, but I truly am sorry that I was unable to help her. No one could have. I've accepted long ago that I cannot repair everything." She fixed him with a stern look, even though he could not see it. "If you feel that blaming me will help ease your pain, then I will endure it. But I have never known someone to recover from grief only by lamenting what could not be done."

This got a reaction; Byakuya looked over his shoulder at her, eyes cold with anger. "Prepare her body as is necessary. Once you are finished, leave the premises; I do not wish to see you here again."

With that, Byakuya swept down the hall, to outside appearances the perfectly emotionless noble. But Retsu could feel the pain in his reiatsu that he refused to give weight. Rage was so much easier to deal with, after all.

Retsu sighed as she returned to Hisana's room, and knelt beside the now lifeless body. She touched a gentle hand to the young woman's cheek.

"It is easy to see how much he loves you," Retsu whispered. "So much that he will harbour ill will about this for quite some time."


	23. Plait

**Title:** Plait

**Characters:** Unohana

**Prompt:** #023 – Meditate

**Word Count:** 612

**Rating:** K

**Summary:** People would ask her why she kept her hair so long.

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

_**Plait**_

It wasn't practical, people said. It could get in the way while fighting, could be used as a handhold by the enemy. These people would ask her why someone so focused on function as she would see fit to keep her appearance this way.

Retsu knelt on her verandah, unbound hair hanging over one shoulder as she ran a brush through it. Above her, the moon was only half-full, but still cast lovely pale light over the Fourth's gardens. It was early spring yet, so the blooms were not out in full, but they held the promise of future splendour in plain view. At least to one such as herself, who could read the signs.

She closed her eyes, and focused on the mechanical action of the brushing, the way the bristles parted the loose strands. Concentrating like this helped on evenings like this one, where she needed to re-establish peace in her mind. Evenings where she was reminded that she could not save everyone.

Three patients had died today.

A tangle here and there disturbed her flow, but she had learned not to let this break her relaxed mental state. Soon enough, all was well again with the smooth, rythmic motion of the brush down the length of her hair. The fingers of her free hand would follow it, occasionally catching the smaller tangles that had been missed. But mostly, she concentrated on the soft sliding of the strands against her fingers.

Sometimes, she just needed a small escape from the stresses of her work, and there were far worse ways to accomplish that than the nightly brushing and braiding of her hair. More sociable ones, perhaps, but though she was not shy, and enjoyed the company of others, she often preferred quiet solitude for such retreats.

Retsu set the brush aside without a look, and proceeded to section off her hair in front of her. This too, without a look; the movements were so ingrained by now that she did not need to see in order to perform this action.

She listened to the breeze as her hands began weaving the sections together, mind focused upon the task. There was nothing in her world now but the night, the breeze, and her slowly-forming braid. None of the regret about her inability to save those people, no speculation of the stresses that the next day might bring. Just the calming familiarity of a nightly ritual.

People asked her sometimes why she wore the braid in such an unconvential place. Was it a style from times long past? A family tradition? Was she trying to be different? Interesting theories, all, but none of them reflected the truth. In fact, those who questioned her on this subject might have been disappointed by how mundane the answer was.

Simply put, it was just less awkward for her than styling it down her back. She had always found it such, but now that greater ease held a more practical purpose. It had worked out rather conveniently, all things considered.

Retsu let a soft smile come over her lips as she felt the lingering tension begin to melt from her body. The less she had to think about how she moved, the easier it was for her to relax. The world would fade away for a few moments, and give her some relief.

She tied the braid off once she was through, and opened her eyes again. Nothing had changed around her. The moon still shone, the wind still blew, the day's events were not erased, and she still had no idea what the morning might bring.

But she felt more at ease all the same.


	24. Within Those Walls

**Title:** Within Those Walls

**Characters:** Unohana, Komamura

**Prompt:** #021 – Cage

**Word Count:** 973

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** For the first time, Retsu sees what is beneath the mask.

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

_**Within Those Walls**_

Retsu found him sitting apart from the others, massive frame resting on the trunk of a fallen tree. She approached silently, not out of any need for stealth or any discomfort on her part, but out of consideration for the man before her. She had rarely had occasion to speak to him before, but through observation she had come to realize that he was more comfortable in solitude.

She gave him a soft, maternal smile when she stopped in front of him, the helmet he wore preventing her from seeing his reaction. "Pardon me. Komamura-san? You are injured."

One strangely-coloured eye regarded her from behind the helmet. And the helmet itself was damaged, raked through by a Hollow's claws. Blood stained the edges where it had been cut, indicating that the armour had not stopped the attack from piercing flesh. A head wound could be a troublesome thing, and it was best that she take care of it on-scene if she could.

After a moment of silence, Komamura looked away. "Do not trouble yourself, Unohana-taichou. This wound is far less severe than those that my men have suffered. I will manage unaided."

"I am afraid I must decline, Komamura-san." Retsu shook her head. His concern for his subordinates over himself was laudable, but he needed medical attention as much as any of them. The squad she had brought with her from the Fourth was tending to them more than adequately at the moment. Healing him would not be a waste of her time or abilities. "It is best not to take injuries to the head lightly. Their effects are not always immediate, and you may cause your condition to worsen should you delay treatment."

She did not press him further. Instead, she merely watched him calmly, hands folded in front of her. It was his right to refuse treatment at this point, even though she advised against it. Any future problems could still be repaired, but she would prefer that Komamura not suffer any more than necessary.

A deep sigh echoed from beneath the helmet. "Very well. If you deem it best, then I will defer to your judgement."

Huge hands reached up and took hold of the helmet at its base. With more gentleness than most would ascribe to someone his size, Komamura pried it off of his head, and carefully set it down next to him. He looked her straight in the eye, as though waiting for her to react to his appearance.

Retsu stepped closer to him, eyes critically examining the gash on the side of his head. Though she had never seen him unhelmeted before, her eyebrows did not lift at the canine features, and there was no hesitance in her steps. All she was concerned about was the injury. It was somewhat deep, and yet Komamura was still conscious and coherent. His fortitude was indeed most impressive.

She reached a hand toward the cut. "If I may?"

Komamura watched her for a moment, confusion written in those large yellow eyes. Clearly, he had expected some reaction to his appearance, whether surprise or something less pleasant. A holdover from what he must have experienced in the past, perhaps. But Retsu was not so shallow as to judge people from the outside.

At his silent nod, she smiled and placed her hand over the cut, feeling the blood-matted fur beneath her fingers. Her palm began to glow with the healing kidou she used, the reiatsu working its way into the wound to mend it from the inside to the outside. The procedure would take only a few moments.

"You are fortunate to have been wearing that," she said with a nod in the direction of his helmet. "The wound would have been much deeper otherwise. Though I somehow doubt that protection is the only reason that you wear it."

Komamura stared at her speculatively. "It serves multiple purposes, yes."

"You imprison yourself behind it." She delivered this statement with confidence, having no doubt of its veracity. "Even off-duty you wear it, so that others will not see your face. Forgive me for saying this, but I find that rather a shame."

He shifted under her hand. "Others need to see that I am a person, a shinigami. Without the mask . . . I am thought of as a beast."

Retsu remained silent for a moment as she considered these words. Sadly, there were far too many people in the world who would take one look at Komamura and see nothing but an animal. But hiding behind a mask was not the way to remedy the situation; it would only allow the attitude to continue.

"We all have something about ourselves that we wish to hide," she said at last. "Even I do, Komamura-san. It does us little good to lock ourselves away so that no one ever knows the true self. Yet all of us try, just the same; it is natural."

Flesh knitted beneath her fingers, and she drew her hand away. With an expert eye, she examined her work, checking to see if she had missed anything. But the skin was whole and undamaged, and the fur there would surely grow back in time. After a while, there would be no sign at all that Komamura had been harmed.

"Nevertheless, I do hope you one day no longer feel the need to imprison yourself behind that helmet." Retsu stepped back, regarding him with fond sadness. "Only then can your acceptance truly begin."

The air was heavy for a few seconds, before Komamura's rumbling voice broke the stillness. "Thank you for your aid, Unohana-taichou."

Retsu bowed and turned away. Though as she did so, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Komamura had picked up his helmet and once again placed it over his head.


	25. The Sharp Side of the Blade

**Title:** The Sharp Side of the Blade

**Characters:** Unohana

**Prompt:** #044 – Half

**Wordcount:** 689

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** In the aftermath of the battle with Aizen, Retsu ponders the need for the skill she possesses outside of healing.

**Warnings:** Spoilers up to Chapter 406, some blood

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

_**The Sharp Side of the Blade**_

Aizen was gone, and he'd left a disaster behind him. This seemed a penchant of his, anymore, though this one was far more critical than that he'd left to Soul Society when he'd departed. That one had been chaotic enough, but having so many captains and vice-captains so grievously injured and in need of attention was far worse.

Retsu stepped through the rubble on a grim search. So many needed her right now, but Sarugaki-san's condition was rather immediate, and Retsu could do little for her without finding the severed lower half of her body. Ushouda-san could stave off the girl's death while she looked, but not indefinitely.

Such an utter mess. Had she gotten here sooner, perhaps she could have prevented some of it. Retsu was not normally one to indulge in regret, but she could not help but feel a twinge of it here. She was always cleaning up after the fact. It was her primary duty, of course, but even so . . .

A piece of rubble shifted under her feet, but she managed to maintain her balance. There was still no sign of the remainder of Sarugaki-san's body. But she would find it.

So much damage to be repaired. At least most of it should be within her ability to heal, and whatever she could not handle on her own could be left to Minazuki. Not that there was a safe haven for him to bring the wounded to, with Aizen on his way back to Soul Society. But what he could facilitate in even a short amount of time would be of significant aid.

Retsu's hand strayed to the sword's hilt. Minazuki was a healing blade primarily, and the spirit was one that was not readily given to violence. Like any other sword, though, it could cut. It could injure. It could kill.

Much time had passed since she had last been forced to use her zanpakutou in such fashion. She trained constantly, but that was not the same.

She stopped when she spied a disembodied pair of legs in front of her. No disgust rippled through her at the sight; her expression remained neutral. Having spent so long in her line of work, few were the injuries that could shock her. Dismemberment was not particularly uncommon, and she had repaired these kinds of grievous wounds in the past. Even if getting cut completely in half was a bit more rare.

Gingerly, she scooped up the legs. Ichimaru's strike had been clean and precise, as she would expect from him; not even the edges of the clothing looked frayed. That kind of deft touch took a deceptive amount of skill.

She had that kind of skill, too.

Retsu turned and executed a shunpo back to Ushouda-san's barrier, Sarugaki-san's legs carefully cradled against her. She knelt beside the girl's body, and offered a calm smile to Ushouda-san.

"If you could please lower the barrier for a few moments; I will be unable to work while it remains." Her voice was soft and gentle, full of the sincere desire to help. Questions about those captains and vice-captains that had been lost a century ago could wait. Everyone here had suffered at Aizen's hand. "I promise I will do everything in my power to ensure that she lives."

Ushouda-san blinked at her and hesitated, but he ultimately complied, dropping his protective shield. Retsu wasted no time in setting to work; this was a delicate operation that necessitated speed and accuracy, else Sarugaki-san would die.

It was much like battle, truly. In fact, she often likened emergency treatments to combat; they were two things that she knew very well, and the stakes were the same.

Though were she to fight, it was entirely possible that she could prevent such injuries to begin with. Perhaps the time had come where she needed to enter the front lines as a warrior rather than a medic. Once her work here was finished, she would give the matter due consideration.

Retsu was both a healer and a fighter. Maybe it was about time to display the latter half of her ability.


	26. Silken Thorns

**Title:** Silken Thorns

**Characters:** Unohana, Seinosuke

**Prompt:** #007 – Sheep

**Word Count:** 997

**Rating:** PG

**Summary:** Unohana needs to bring her straying vice-captain into line. With great courtesy, of course.

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

**_Silken Thorns_**

The urgent care wing of the Fourth was not the most cheerful of places at the best of times, but an especially gloomy air seemed to permeate it today. Sadly, it was not the first time that such a mood had come over it, and would not be the last. Seinosuke was an exemplary healer, but his attitude often left something to be desired.

Retsu held down her reiatsu as she followed that of her vice-captain; he was hard at work and thus very easily found. She stopped just outside the doorway of the patient's room. Seinosuke's back was to her, and the patient's eyes were closed – though she sensed that he was indeed conscious. Her presence went unnoticed, just as she wished.

"You might consider yourself lucky not to have lost this leg." Seinosuke spoke as he worked, hands surrounded by a gentle green glow. If only his tone could carry that gentleness rather than the blandness that came through. "But if you were actually lucky, you wouldn't have gotten hurt this badly in the first place. Frankly, I don't know what you're relieved about. You nearly bled to death. That doesn't strike me as something to be happy about. Almost dying isn't good."

Retsu frowned. There he went again, destroying the morale of one of his patients. She was all for honesty, but there was no excuse for this attitude, especially when it had been proven that being in good spirits aided recovery. The man needed to keep these kinds of dismal thoughts to himself.

"I've seen people die from less serious injuries than this, you know," he continued. "Took too long to get to them, or they got infected and illness killed them in spite of all efforts. But really, just how stupid were you being when that Hollow got its teeth into you?"

The patient turned his head away in shame. All right; that was enough. She would not allow this to continue. Seinosuke needed to learn.

She smiled benignly and clasped her hands in front of her. "Yamada-fukutaichou. When you are finished with the treatment, may I have a word with you?"

At that, Seinosuke stiffened, his shoulders straightening and the healing aura fading from his hands. He stilled for a moment before bowing his head again and continuing his work. "But of course, Captain. This will only take a moment more."

The patient's relief was palpable, the aura of the room suddenly seeming far less oppressive. Retsu gave the man a nod of sympathy. Seinosuke was not an encouraging presence, and she would not begrudge anyone who felt uncomfortable in the man's company.

Seinosuke rose to his feet at last, his shoulders settling into their usual hunch. He offered the patient a small bow. "Do have a pleasant afternoon. But don't try walking on that leg at all, no matter how good it feels right now. You'll just trip and break it again if you do. We're both tired of this, right?"

"Yamada-fukutaichou," Retsu scolded mildly, her voice containing only the slightest edge. She glanced pointedly at the hallway before stepping in that direction herself. Even when he knew she was watching, he said such things. Terrible.

He bowed at the waist when he joined her in the hall. "What is it you wished to see me about, Unohana-taichou?"

"Your tone rather suggests that you already know." She regarded him steadily. He was not a fool; he knew what this was about. "I have told you before to mind how you speak to a patient, and yet you seem to be having great difficulty in taking those words to heart. Yamada-fukutaichou, please look me in the eye when I am speaking to you."

His eyes had been very obviously trained upon the wall in order to avoid hers. At her command, though, they snapped over to her face, widening a bit from their usual lazy droop. His hands twitched nervously, which she noticed in spite of his efforts to hide it.

"I-I . . . My humblest apologies, Captain." Seinosuke struggled to keep from looking away, and to his credit, he managed it. "I truly meant nothing untoward by my words, I assure you. I was merely being honest."

Retsu's expression remained utterly neutral despite the feeble excuse. "There is a difference between being honest and destroying morale. You know this; you are an intelligent man. That you continue to behave in this manner suggests intent."

Seinosuke shook his head vigourously. "No, no. I swear that there was no intent. I just misspoke, is all."

Sometimes, Retsu wondered whether Seinosuke ever expected her to believe that. This was not the fist time that he had used this as his excuse. He had such potential to be even more of an asset to the division than he already was. It was the reason she had selected him as her vice-captain even with all of his shortcomings. But he would often stray, making her feel like a shepherdess who was in danger of losing one of her flock. She hoped that one day her efforts would pay dividends.

"I would suggest that you make more of an effort not to misspeak in the future. You do no one a service by depressing them. You may continue your duties now, but I shall observe you. Perhaps this will make it easier for you to think before you speak." Her voice was perfectly calm and smooth, even as she reprimanded him.

Seinosuke paled, and his hands twitched even harder. Even so, he nodded obediently as she knew he would. "As you wish, Unohana-taichou. And perhaps it will."

She wordlessly bid him to move along, and he complied instantly, shoulders drooping even more than usual. She followed close behind him, hands still neatly clasped in front of her. Seinosuke was as the very least an obedient sheep, and always had been. Perhaps one day she would no longer have to herd him in such literal fashion.


	27. Common Ground

**Title:** Common Ground

**Characters:** Unohana, Seinosuke

**Prompt:** #047 – Closer

**Wordcount:** 974

**Rating:** PG

**Summary:** Retsu and Seinosuke finally find something that they can agree upon. At least, to a point.

**Warnings:** None

**Disclaimer:** All characters and settings of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

_**Common Ground**_

Retsu blinked at the patient file she was reading. The medication she had ordered him to take was not the one that had been administered. In fact, the names of them were not even similar, nor were their effects, leading her to doubt it had been a mere clerical error. Those happened from time to time, of course, but there was no evidence of that here.

She lifted an eyebrow in Seinosuke's direction, her mind working. An emergency case had come into the Fourth the day she'd issued the prescription, and she had assigned him to handle the less serious one in her absence. At the current moment, he was diligently writing up his reports, the brushstrokes smooth and brisk. For all his other faults, he was competent with his work.

"Yamada-fukutaichou, if I may ask for you to explain this report to me?"

Seinosuke did not look up from his work, but he did nod. "Ask away, Captain."

She let the lack of attention slide this time; if her suspicions were accurate, then he was guilty of far worse than that. "The medication listed as being administered to the Ninth Seat of the Eleventh is not what I prescribed for him. As I last left the man in your care, I would hope that you have an explanation for me."

His hand stopped, poised over the page he had been writing upon. Fresh ink dripped off the brush, staining the paper beyond reclaim; he would have to rewrite that report later. For a moment, he remained as still as death, but then he regained some semblance of composure.

"I . . . must have been in error." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "My apologies, Captain. I assure you that I shall be more careful in the future."

It was a lie, as she had expected him to offer. The rigid posture, the hesitant speech . . . Those did not give the impression of an honest statement. Would the man never come to realize the futility of lying to her?

She closed the file and folded her hands on her desk, keeping her eyes on Seinosuke as she did so. "Quite an error to be made, as the two drugs have absolutely nothing in common."

Seinosuke bit his lip. "Well, I wouldn't say that . . ."

"I prescribed an anti-inflammatory. You gave him a diuretic."

His hand shook, and he fumbled to keep hold of his brush. He failed at that, and it dropped onto his report, further soaking it through. There might well be a stain on the desk beneath by now. He glanced up sheepishly in silent apology for the mess. As if it were the mess that concerned her.

"Captain, really, I . . ." Seinosuke faltered and looked away. He heaved a sigh before continuing. "You know how the Eleventh treats us, Unohana-taichou. Like we're not even shinigami. Is it so wrong to take them to task for their insults?"

Retsu frowned marginally. That was what this was about? "So you made the arbitrary decision to punish one man for the poor behaviour of his entire division? This is hardly conduct becoming an officer, especially one of your status."

He kept his gaze away from her, choosing instead to concentrate on cleaning up the mess in front of him. Brush placed in the inkwell, ruined report tossed in the trash. He didn't seem to be inclined to speak anymore until she cleared her throat in a request for more information.

Nervously, he looked her in the eye. "It wasn't arbitrary, ma'am. He was bullying the nursing staff, deriding our officers as a whole. He even challenged me, and said, on the grounds that I declined, that we were all worthless to the Gotei because we couldn't fight. Suggested that we be disbanded and have our swords taken away, since we obviously have no use for them . . ." He lowered his eyes again. "I suppose I just lost my temper."

Retsu rested her chin on one fist as she listened. These words, at last, had the ring of truth about them. Granted, the man in question had said nothing of the sort to her, but none dared to speak ill of the Fourth when they knew she was present. Her reputation prevented that. This story was by no means a stretch of the imagination.

"I see," she began thoughtfully. There was no censure in her voice, however. "I find it laudable that you feel strongly enough about what we do that you would defend the Fourth's honour."

Seinosuke blinked at her. "Captain?"

"But this," she continued, the tiniest of smiles crossing her lips as she tapped the file with her free hand, "is not the way to go about it. Please do not make it a habit of badgering those in other divisions in the name of ours. But if you absolutely must, do not do it in a fashion that compromises someone's health. Sometimes, punishment must be meted out, but this was taking things a bit far."

"Really? You'd allow me to . . ." He regarded her dubiously for a moment, perhaps trying to figure out if this were some sort of trap. Evidently, he decided it was not; a sly grin spread over his features. "Wise advice, Captain. I shall keep it in mind."

Retsu nodded and returned to perusing the stack of files on her desk. She could not have told Seinosuke to stop his pursuits entirely without making a hypocrite of herself; every now and then, she would discreetly trifle with the Eleventh after particularly awful transgressions. Defending the Fourth was not something that she could fault in and of itself.

Seinosuke's protectiveness was admirable, actually. It seemed that the two of them had more in common than healing talents after all.


End file.
